


Dragon Up The Timestream

by SarkaS



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, If You Squint - Freeform, Jesse needs all the hugs, M/M, McReverseBang18, Memory Loss, Mentioned Other Overwatch Members, Minor Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Noodle Dragons, Overwatch Family, Shimada Brothers, Young Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, all the Shimada feels, dealing with past emotional wounds, dragon magic, mentions of Dad Gabe, they talk and heal and grow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarkaS/pseuds/SarkaS
Summary: Most people expect some pretty terrible consequences when a mission goes sideways. But to wake up twenty years younger with no recollection of the past two decades, that's some next level bad luck. Or is it?A companion fic for fantastic art made by Cyde for McReverseBang 2018!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note.   
> The [ ] stand for Japanese.

“Whadda yer dragon eyes see up there, Shimada?” 

“Your hat with an arrow in it if you won’t stop asking,” came an answer in a familiar growl. Jesse grinned.

“Ah, ya wound me, darlin’. Thought we were past that.”

A beat of silence then a scoff. “Whatever gave you that idea?” 

Jesse peeked from behind his cover, looking up to where he knew the archer was perched, putting his hand over his heart mimicking being shot through it. He managed to hid back behind the cover just as an arrow embedded itself into the ground where he was standing only a second ago. 

“Now, that’s just plain rude, Han.” 

“Do not call me Ha-”

“Do either of you know what the phrase ‘no chatter’ means?” Soldier interrupted Hanzo mid-sentence and Jesse grinned, looking on his watch. Yes! Five minutes twenty-four seconds. 

“I win, Shimada. Yer treat tonight.” 

“I did not agree to that bet,” Hanzo replied at the same time Soldier spat out angry “McCree!”.

“Aww, sore loser.” 

“If everyone could focus on the objective?” Winston interrupted in an exasperated tone. “We have a movement on your five, the payload is moving, they took the second path, and you need to intercept it before it leaves this part of town. There won’t be a chance after.”

“Dontcha worry none, Winston. They won’t know what hit ‘em.” 

There was a sigh from Winston and a growl from Soldier but Jesse ignored them both. “Wanna dance with me, Shimada?”

“Pf. As if you could keep up.” Came the answer and Jesse could see the man jump from his perch on a rooftop to the next one and then the next to find a better position for their attack as the wind around them changed. 

Jesse pushed his hat up and pulled the Peacekeeper out of the holster, already feeling the excitement build. “Now, if that ain’t smellin’ like a bet I don’t know what would.” 

  


\---

  


The mission was a rounding success and not even Soldier ranting at him about professionalism and sharing only relevant information couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face. 

A long shower and a good smoke was just bonus making this day one of the really good ones. It felt almost too good when he heard the soft footsteps of a certain assassin nearing his favorite spot on the roof of building B, enjoying the sunset. 

“Didn’t expect to see ya tonight, Shimada,” he said, letting his head roll lazily to the side. The man in front of him just rolled his eyes and shook the two bottles in his hands. 

“Wasn’t it my turn to bring the drinks?” It wasn’t really a question, more of an annoyed jibe. 

“Now, ya can’t dare a man to keep up with ya and then complain when he does.” 

Hanzo huffed but sat next to Jesse nonetheless, thrusting a bottle of not too bad bourbon into his hand as he opened the other one for himself. Not a bourbon, his was sake. Predictably. But hey, who was Jesse to judge. There were at least four bottles of whiskey stashed in his own room. Stereotypes became stereotypes for a reason. 

They were silent after that, occasionally sipping from their respective bottles, enjoying the peace after a job well done. 

At some point, Hanzo's rigid posture relaxed and the man even let his shoulders slump slightly. He still sat straighter than anyone else Jesse had ever met but after months of sharing moments like this with the man, Jesse could read even the smallest of Hanzo’s movements with astonishing accuracy. And he was aware it went both ways. It’s one of the main reasons what makes them such a good team in the field. The success rate of their joined mission was one of the highest and that was including the old leaderboards. The only two higher scores belonged to Morrison & Reyes and Morrison & Ana. And Jesse wasn’t feeling too bad about not beating those. It wouldn’t feel right to him, no matter how things turned out after. 

The peaceful atmosphere was disrupted by the sound of vibrations coming from Hanzo’s pocket about a quarter bottle in and it made the man nearly startle but he pulled himself under control in a split second. 

He pulled the phone out to look at it. Jesse noticed his fingers tightening around it before Hanzo decisively turned it off and put it as far from him as his arm allowed. Jesse contemplated letting it be and not disrupting whatever peace they had left but the tension returned to Hanzo’s shoulders and he knew then that he couldn’t not ask, even to just to make sure. 

“Genji?” 

Hanzo’s spine reminded Jesse a bowstring it looked so taunt at that moment and for a beat, he was sure he chose wrong. He should have stayed silent. Now Hanzo will probably just leave and shut himself in his room to finish the rest of the sake. 

Jesse tried not to stare at Hanzo as minutes passed but it wasn’t easy. His eyes were so used to finding the man in every room they shared it was nearly impossible to keep them off him when they were alone. 

But then Hanzo’s head fell forward in surrender to whatever was happening in it.

“Yes.” He admitted dispassionately. “He wishes for me to join him and his Master for their meditation.” 

Jesse hummed. “I take it yer not interested?” 

A pause. A bit too long for a simple yes or no question. It made Jesse’s stomach churn. Genji’s his friend. Best friend, even. And the strained relationship between the two brothers was something he wished he could fix, even if rationally he knew he needed to stay the hell away from. Still, he knew Hanzo cared for Genji, even if he hated to show it, probably believing he had no right to care anymore. McCree would call bullshit but there were still boundaries they didn’t cross. For Hanzo, it was mostly Genji and the Clan. For Jesse, it was Reyes and by extension Reaper. 

They both knew enough about the other’s soft spots to know the safest way was to avoid them at all costs. 

Yet, he couldn’t not see that was slightly easier for Hanzo since he had no relationship with Reyes. Jesse, on the other hand, spent most of his time balancing at the edge of a knife. And sometimes he simply found it too exhausting, swerving to one side or another. 

It was nearly ten minutes, give or take, before Hanzo answered and honestly, Jesse stopped hoping for an answer. “My presence would be disruptive. It is better if I don’t.” 

Once again Jesse wanted to call bullshit but decided he pushed his luck enough for one day. Shrugging he said: “Eh, no harm in passin’ it up this one time.” 

It was not one time. That message was far from first. At this point, it was basically a standing invitation for months, one that Genji permanently reminded Hanzo of via texts or random invitations during meals. 

“Yes.” Hanzo’s answer came sounding small and distant. Ah hell. He hated to see Hanzo mopy. It did not fit the man. 

“Hey, have I ever told ya about that time I interrupted traders with omnic parts in Istambul?” 

Hanzo turned to look at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, expression unimpressed. “Will it be one of your made up tales, again?” 

“Hey!” Jesse protested loudly, honestly a little bit offended. “I’ve only ever told ya the god’s honest truth!”

Hanzo continued to stare at him, clearly not convinced. “You were a trapeze artist in a circus.” He deadpanned. 

“It was an undercover mission and we busted that drug cartel!”

“And that time you were undercover as an Italian waiter?” Hanzo asked, his eyes raking over Jesse’s form. “You do not look Italian, McCree.”

Jesse spread his arms in a ‘what can you do gesture’. “I looked most Italian from the whole team!”

Hanzo scoffed, clearly disbelieving, but turned to face Jesse, gesturing for him to go on and tell his outrageous story. Jesse could see the tension leak out of him a tiny bit and thought that he’ll let Hanzo disparage his accomplishments this once. Because he was a good friend like that.

  


\---

  


When it came to Tracer Jesse couldn’t really be surprised it all happened lightning fast - one moment they were pushing the Talon forces back and the next Hanzo was shouting a warning into comms and Jesse’s lungs seized in fear. 

_ Sniper. _

Something hit Tracer square in the chest making her stumble into him and then fall sideways. Jesse ducked down and went to grab her to drag her out of the sniper’s sight, as late is it might have been when he noticed it wasn’t her what was hit but her time-ticker and that the thing was not gloving its usual bluish color. It was nearly white now. It was still working though, Jesse could hear the subtle hum of it. 

There was more yelling in his ear but could barely understand it.

He more heard than saw the body hitting him at a speed and felt a hand grab him by his arm pulling him away from Lena purely with the kinetic force of it. It was the familiar blue glow of the dragons that stopped him from attacking, making him look around in bewilderment. 

That was when the hum turned into an angry buzz and then into high pitched whine clearly signaling there was something wrong with it. Jesse turned to look at it just in time to see Lena’s panicked eyes - thank the heavens she’s alive! - and her gesture for them to stay away. 

Hanzo pulled at him once again but Jesse’s reaction was too slow because in the next moment an explosion of a deathly silent force flung his body aside along with Hanzo who was still holding onto his arm with his own glowing one. 

Lena’s anguished scream tore through the deafeningly quiet wave and the last thing Jesse remembered, before his vision swam out of focus and into blackness, was the dragon light reflecting in Hanzo’s wide eyes to the point of making them seem electric blue instead of the familiar coffee brown. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse was full of regrets. He didn’t even open his eyes yet but he was already sure of that one. So many regrets.

Sure, he didn’t seem to be in pain but that could change any moment now. Maybe when he opened his eyes. Or when Reyes notices he’s awake and ready for some sound bashing.

What did the hell happen? Jesse couldn’t remember for the life of him but his gut feeling was telling him something sure as heck did. Well, whatever it was he was certain he can preemptively chalk it up to the regret category. He knew how his life worked by now.

“Jesse.” A vaguely familiar accented voice cut through his wallowing thoughts with a clear undertone of worry that made his insides churn with guilt. Awesome. Exactly what he needed first thing in the morning. Granting it was actually a morning. Because if it wasn’t he may as well make peace with everything since Reyes will appear any moment now and kill him dead. Feeling guilty won’t change a thing about it.

“Yeah,” he drawled in lieu of an answer before opening his eyes and peering to his left from where the voice came.

There was a brief moment of absolute silence in his head before he let out a yelp and pushed away with sleep heavy limbs that slipped on the sheets making him flip down with little grace and none of the intended movement.

“What the hell?!”

There, on the standard plastic infirmary chair, was sitting woman he recognized, except he didn’t. Well, he did but not like this! She was looking wrung out. And gray. And… was that an eyepatch?

“Capt’n Amari?”

The woman in question was looking at him indulgent patience and a hint of sadness that, at any other time, would make him pause. “Good morning to you too, Jesse.”

That did give him a pause, because, what?

Since when she called him by his first name? She barely even used his last name, mostly he was just ‘the recruit’.

“Mornin’, ma’am” he answered instead semi-politely, his manners catching up to his brain. “What, um, what happened to ya if ya don’t mind me askin’?”

He belatedly realized that probably wasn’t the most tactful way to approach things but in his defense, he still felt more than little dazed.

There was a snort from somewhere on the right and he almost turned to look, except he felt a bit hypnotized by the sight in front of him. The woman was Captain Ana Amari for sure but she looked like that survivor of a maelstrom he read about in some book or other, all white hair and wrinkly and clearly missing some pretty important bits to boot.

The Captain herself just huffed a small laugh not taking her eye off of him for a second, ignoring whoever else was in the room.

“Age catches up to us all at some point, I’m sure you can say the same.”

And, uh, Jesse wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. How does one age by what seemed like at least three decades and is so blase about it? Also, how should Jesse know? He just turned eighteen recently and as much as he likes to think himself a full-fledged adult now, he doubts it can quite compare to what the Captain went through.

“Um,” was the only reasonable thing he could come up with.

“I really don’t think he remembers, mom.” Came a reply from his right side and he finally turned to look.

His jaw dropped.

No way.

“Hey, Jess.” The tall young woman grinned at him, though her eyes spoke of worry. “How are you feeling?”

“F-Fareeha?”

Her grin broadened. “The one and only.”

Jesse did not understand. He was- But they were- “B-but how?”

“Couldn’t tell you if I tried, Jess. Angie can probably explain better than any one of us here anyway.” She gestured somewhere behind her.

Jesse followed the gesture on instinct more than intent.

“Angela?!” His voice switched somewhere in the middle to a high pitched squeak. She gave him one of her kind smiles and it set off an alarm in some background part of his brain. But he was too stunned to pay it much attention. Even if she didn’t seem to age as much as the two other women, she was still older than she was two days ago. Because that was when Jesse last saw her. They had a lunch in the canteen together. She was still pretty new but Jesse liked her from the day one. She was a genuinely nice person. Probably first he met in his whole life.

Also, they were the same age. Or they used to be.

“How are you feeling, Jesse?” She asked, making her way to him around still smirking Fareeha.

“...really confused.” He echoed as he watched her pull out the little light and checking his eyes, making him flinch and frown. He hated that thing.

She clicked her tongue at him.

“What happened to y'all?”

“Nothing, actually,” Fareeha said. “You are the one in the hospital bed, _ghabi_.”

That… was a valid point. But nothing he could fathom explained what he saw in front of him. What in the sam hill could have happened to explain this?

Angella sighed. “You’ve been in a near vicinity of an exploding chronal accelerator. Now please, answer my questions. Any pain?”

Jesse stared at her until she swatted at him with her tablet.

_“Pain,”_ she emphasized, raising her eyebrows in a slightly threatening manner.

“None?” He half answered and half asked hopefully. She rolled her eyes at him.

“How about your head. What can you remember?”

Jesse hesitated, racking his memory. “Um, Boss bustin’ mah ass about them mixed up supplies. Gomez wanting to spar. Dinner and going to bed?” he ended questioningly because there was nothing in his recollection that should have ended with him in the infirmary. And definitely no explosions.

“Ya sure ‘bout the explosion stuff?”

Angela exchanged looks with the others before turning back to him.

“Yes, Jesse, quite sure. You seem to be missing some memories.”

“What?” He had amnesia?

“About twenty years of them if I should guess,” Captain Amari said with a thoughtful look. “Gomez was killed in action two years after Gabriel brought you in. He used to say it was just about long enough for her to teach you how to throw a punch but not how not to wipe the floor with your ass every time you did.”

Jesse blanched.

“G-Gomez is dead?”

The Captain was looking sad now. Sad and resigned. “Many people are, _habibi_.”

“But- I mean- We talked _yesterday_.” He said imploringly, his brain screeching like breaks of an old-ass train, failing to grasp what was being said to him.

“Jesse. _Jesse, listen to me_ ,” Angela jumped in, scowling at the Captain. “I know this is all confusing and it doesn’t make any sense to you. But please listen to us alright? This is not a mistake or a joke or a test. What we are telling you is the truth and we can prove it to you.”

Jesse’s mind was reeling and he pulled away from Angela as she tried to take his hands in his. The monitor next to him was beeping incessantly and it made the screeching in his head worse.

He barely registered turning around and pushing it with all his strength. It crashed to the ground, taking the stand with it, hitting something on the way down. The torturous sound disappeared.

Blessed silence spread through the room for a few seconds before Jesse realized with wide eyes what he did, flinching back, mouth opening in an apology.

Angela was staring at him with stern expression. Fareeha next to her looked shocked. The Captain’s expression was understanding and sad.

“I didn’t mean to-”

Angela raised her hand, effectively cutting him off. “It does not matter.”

Jesse wasn’t sure how did this not matter. This was against all the regulations Reyes forced him to memorize. There was no way this wouldn’t end up on his record.

A horrifying thought struck him. What if they gonna kick him out for this? He’s gonna end up in jail!

A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his terrified daze. Fareeha was standing next to him, gripping his shoulder tight. Tall and imposing and foreign. And smelling like pears and cardamom for some reason.

“Jesse.” Angela’s voice sounded professional now. Calm and collected. It made his stomach tighten in anguish. “It’s the year 2076 and technically you’ve recently turned 38. The Overwatch is not as you remember it. But during the last mission, you were in a near vicinity of an exploding time stream altering device and it caused for you and one other member of the team to regress in age. Significantly. The best people Overwatch has are working on a solution as we speak but you need to stay calm and cooperate with us.” He heard her take a deep breath and realized with surprise that he closed his eyes somewhere during her speech. His mind reeling.

Several moments of silence passed before he spoke. Barely a whisper.

“Why isn’t Reyes here?”

He looked up at them, noticing their shattered expression with a rising wave of panic.

“Where is Boss?”

Fareeha’s fingers dug into his shoulder with even greater strength than before, just as Captain Amari said:

“Because Gabriel Reyes is dead, too.”

 

\---

 

He sat on the tough mattress of the single bed pushed into a corner in what they said was his room. Except Jesse didn’t felt like it was his. On the first glance, it seemed generic at best. Standard bed with standard covers, small desk, chair and a smallish wardrobe. Next to the bed were mostly empty bottles of whiskey, bourbon and few beers. The ashtray was overflowing. As was the trashcan. There were no windows, which was hardly surprising but Jesse mourned the lack of them anyway. It will be much harder for him to sneak out if he has to go through the Watchpoint but there was nothing he could do about it.

The others seemed to think he would be fine like this. Like they hadn’t just told him Gabe’s-

He’s-

Jesse punched the mattress but it provided him with no relief whatsoever. Just another futile attempt at… something. He wasn’t even sure. Scrunching his face so the stinging in his eyes would stop, he cursed.

Reyes was gone. That’s the bottom line. And Jesse had no reason to stay at this foreign place. With people, he never met or didn’t really know. They could manage without him no problem, he’s sure.

He checked the alarm clock on the ground next to the bed. It wasn’t late enough, yet, and there was still a good chance someone could come looking for him, so he would need to prepare at the last moment.

Didn’t mean he could snoop around, though. Especially since the things here were technically his.

There really wasn’t much that would tell anyone anything about him when they walked in, only his vices. Which, huh. Smart move. He should remember that.

But if he still was anything like Jesse is now, there had to be something _somewhere_. He tried to peek under the bed first but no, nothing but dust and some discarded wrapper all the way in the back.

Jesse pushed up with a huff and swung his leg from the bed, before standing up and checking the mess on the desk. Nothing much except for few papers and something that looked like a doodle of snakes? Worms? He couldn’t tell.

Good to know his older self was still completely untalented.

He turned to the last viable option. The wardrobe.

And, yeah, that one was pretty much pure him. Jeans and shirts and serapes. Pair of sneakers kicked in the corner, two pairs of sweatpants, four worn tees, some tank tops. And another two hats, one white, one black.

“Coverin’ all mah bases,” he grinned a little.

Under the hats were some books, with few magazines in between. Jesse couldn’t stop himself from flipping through some of them, indulgently taking in the content. Yup, tastes still mostly the same. Except maybe a bit on the mature side but Jesse guessed that came with the aging thing. He could still see the appeal, though, and threw one on the bed for when he’s done, to kill some time with.

“Bingo,” he murmured when his nails scraped against a metal surface. Hidden at the very bottom was a tin box with a stylized cowboy and a pair of cacti in the background. The paint was scraped at sides and bit on the top and there was a dent in where the cowboy's butt was leaning against the wooden fence but other than that it seemed fine.

Jesse smirked. Can’t change a man. He didn’t remember owning this but it was clearly owned by his older self for some time now. He took it to the bed and opened it without much preamble.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Jesse would never admit it aloud but up until now he still kinda hoped this was all a hoax. A bit of him just wouldn’t buy into whatever they were feeding him.

But here it was. The only proof they couldn’t really twist.

He took the worn almost threadbare, red kerchief and rubbed it between his fingers. The pattern near the hemming nearly invisible, sun-bleached to all hell but still reviving something soft and warm in his chest. Something that felt like home.

He brought it to his nose but to his crushing disappointment, he couldn’t smell anything except for a faint whiff of a laundry detergent and a stale cigar smoke.

It didn’t stop him from taking it and tying it around his neck with few experienced moves.

There were other things, previously hidden under the soft red fabric. Jesse’s breath hitched at the sight of one particular thing.

He picked it up, turning it in his fingers back and forth.

It was a piece of stiff fabric. Black, with a red and white crest of an animal skull with a dagger in the middle.

And Jesse remembered with such clarity when he got this. It felt like yesterday. Hell, it nearly was yesterday! For him at least. He could recall Reyes taking him aside and giving these patches to him to stitch to his clothes before they made him a proper uniform. He was too small to fit in anything they had at hand.

_‘Put these on your clothes, for now, pendejo. You belong with us.’_

“ _Fuck,_ ” Jesse croaked and this time there wasn’t a chance in hell for him to stop the hot tracks running down his face. _“Fuck!”_

Reyes was gone.

Gabe was gone.

How- What was Jesse supposed to do with himself now?! He just started to fit in!

Still mostly a kid with a shitton of attitude and half a brain but he started to fit in with the rest of the Blackwatch misfits. Reyes showed him how.

And now it’s all gone!

Jesse rubbed his thumb over the coarse stitching of the patch, noticing how dulled the colors were, thinking maybe his older self did the same thing before. How did he cope?

How did the older self get over the loss of the only father figure he ever had? Jesse sure could use a hit or two right about now.

Or did he? Maybe he just never made peace with it. That felt like a pretty real possibility.

Jesse nearly snorted a laugh through his tears when an image of Reyes appeared in his mind, giving him his patented glare of exasperated annoyance.

And he could imagine the yelling just as well. It made him straighten his back and wipe the tear tracks away.

“I hear ya, Boss.”

He flipped the patch few more times before letting out a breath and setting it aside. There was more stuff in the box. Much more, Jesse realized as he rummaged through them. And he couldn’t really recognize any of them.

A brown feather streaked with darker brown and muddled white. A snowflake-shaped keychain. Something that after closer examination turned out to be a recipe for date cookies.

A crude drawing of Jesse with O-shaped legs, an oversized hat and a speech bubble saying, shouting really, ‘LOOK AT MAH BIG GUN!’ that made him snort with laughter. Underneath was written in small scribble ‘For my embarrassing big brother. Get well soon. Fareeha’.

That… that took a while to process. He met that girl only a few times. And sure, he liked her, she was a little firecracker, but they weren’t close. Not enough to call each other friends. Not to mention family.

Guess he did fit in after all. And not just with the riff raff either.

He got back to looking eventually, for there were more things. Knickknacks. Little trinkets. But there were also some pictures.

One was of older him in black gear leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face, chatting with a man or a robot. He wasn’t really sure. But they were close enough for him to understand they were good friends. Or lovers? Could you do that with a robot? Jesse never really thought about it. It didn’t seem like his thing now that he _was_ thinking about it. Probably friends then.

Another picture was a group photo. And he looked older than on the previous one. Scruffier too. But he clearly has the ability to grow a mighty fine beard, so there was that.

The photo seemed to be from a celebration. He had Captain Amari standing on his left and what seemed to be the robot dude on the right, though this time he was wearing some kind of faceplate. There was also Reinhardt and… a gorilla. With glasses. Because that was clearly Jesse’s life now. And an energetic girl mid jump he never met before. He recognized Angela, Torbjorn, and Commander Morrison. And of course Reyes. Jesse smirked. Gabe clearly wasn’t a fan of being photographed. Not that it surprised Jesse.

What did surprise him a bit was the many scars and deep circles under his eyes. He looked worn. Old. Angry. It made Jesse tad uncomfortable to look at Reyes too closely here, so he set the picture down.

There was one more photograph. Jesse stared at it. He looked old.

He recognized his own face but something in his brain was fighting against the reality that this was supposed to be him now. With lines that weren’t just laugh-lines and weather-hardened features. With a hat that was past well worn and washed out red serape with fixed holes in it.

But also that he was laughing. Roaring with it, really. Head thrown back, eyes scrunched and the arm he had around the shoulders of the other man in the photo seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright.

The other man, though, that was a mystery. If Jesse ever considered Reyes’ face to be stern, it was nothing compared to the face of this guy. Jesse knew without a shred of doubt that the man’s glare could kill a lesser man. And his cheekbones could cut through glass better than a diamond tip. He was hot. There were no two ways about it. Dark brown eyes under angry eyebrows, black just like his hair tied in a ponytail, except for the pair of graying wings at the sides of his face. They didn’t take anything from him, the opposite, really. He looked dignified and graceful. A stark contrast next to Jesse.

From his features, Jesse could tell he’s Asian. And didn’t Angela mention the other de-aged guy’s a Japanese? Huh.

Jesse could see a hint of a tattoo peeking from under the lapels of the traditional looking clothes. He wished almost violently that he could see more of it. It made him feel nearly guilty when confronted with the glare the man has directed at whoever was taking this particular picture.

At first glance Jesse would guess the man didn’t wish to be anywhere near him or the photographer, maybe both. But he knew himself better. The Jesse McCree on the photograph was utterly unguarded. There was not a wall in sight and it made him ache.

It made him want.

Jesse looked from the photo to the door and then back down at the pile of mementos, before sitting straighter, the photo still in hand.

Maybe Reyes was right and he had something here. Maybe it was just the older Jesse McCree who could remember it, but _this_ Jesse McCree sure as hell wasn’t about to give it up without trying it first.


	3. Chapter 3

Genji felt unsure.

Contrary to what many of the other might have been thinking after his announcement of his intention to bring Hanzo into the fold it wasn’t feeling he would experience that often. He was sure of most things in his life, now, actually.

He’s sure that it’s been high time for his reunion with Hanzo. He’s sure that bringing Hanzo to Overwatch was a good idea. And more than anything, Genji’s sure there is still the Hanzo he used to know when they were young and often foolish to be found deep down.

But to be faced with Hanzo looking like a shard of one of Genji’s most treasured memories was somehow a step too far and any surety Genji had felt was gone, leaving him feeling raw, open… and afraid.

Despite Angela’s assurances that physically Hanzo’s fine - apart from the obvious - Genji couldn’t make his body relax. Usually, thanks to the fact his body was mostly cybernetic he had no such problems. Circuitries, ironically, listened to his brain better than his flesh. It was a sure sign of his mind being on high alert when he couldn’t relax. His base instincts overriding any and all impulses sent to the rest of his body, making him prepared to fight or flight. Except Genji was in no danger. He was sitting in the infirmary of the Watchpoint: Gibraltar guarded by everything they had at their disposal. Arguably this was about the safest place for him and his brother right now.

Genji was self-aware enough to realize his inner turmoil was not caused by any real danger but emotional distress.

His hands were clasped together resting on his knees at safe distance from Hanzo’s hand resting on the starch white cover. As much as physicality did not come easily to them anymore, there were moments when neither he or Hanzo hesitate to touch the other. Visits in the infirmary were one of those instances. Yet… yet.

Genji’s mechanical fingers entwined and the pressure sensors send him a blip of warning. Were they only flesh and bone the pain would have stopped him from pressing the knuckles together already. But they weren’t, so he ignored it in favor of focusing on Hanzo’s unmarred pale skin just a foot away, more aware than before that if he let himself and Hanzo was to wake to the foreign touch they would be off to a rocky start. Rockier. Genji had no illusions about the difficult task ahead of him.

How does even one explain such a thing? He himself did not understand how it happened in more than a fleeting sense of everything that was connected to Tracer’s unusual state of being. Hanzo could very well lose his mind the moment he was confronted with his situation simply because that was not something human mind was wired to comprehend. Human lives went in one direction. Suddenly breaking out of that seemed incomprehensible to Genji.

 

He must have spent much longer stressing over what was ahead of him that he thought because the sudden change in Hanzo’s breathing pattern suggested the time Genji thought he had was at its end. Hanzo was waking up.

Hanzo’s next breath left his mouth nearly in a form of a moan but then it was abruptly cut out as the younger version of his older brother regained his conscious fully and with it his control.

[“What happened?”] Was the first words out of Hanzo’s mouth and Genji felt his lips twitch in an almost imperceptible a smile at the authority projected in those words. Scion of the Shimada clan indeed.

That thought brought everything crashing down again. The next minutes will be hell and there was nothing Genji could do about it. He would not lie to his brother. That much he told the other agents outright. Not only for moral reasons, though. His brother was scarily smart when it came to deception and there was no way they could possibly come up with explanation Hanzo would believe. The truth would be hard enough to explain as it was.

[“Be calm, brother. It’s just us here.”] Genji answered and nearly winced at how mechanical his voice came out. After so long since his transformation he usually wouldn’t even pause at that, he became so used to it, but now it grated at his already frayed nerves. And he wasn’t the only one who was disturbed by it. Hanzo’s eyes flew open his head turning to him in one quick motion.

A parade of emotions flew over Hanzo’s face before his expression became closed off and his eyes narrowed in harsh suspicion.

[“Who are you?”] It wasn’t a question so much as a demand. And yes, it confirmed one of Winston’s theories. Hanzo had no memory of his future life. That made things both easier and terribly complicated.

[“It’s me, brother. Genji.”]

Hanzo’s face was quickly turning into a brewing storm. [Do not lie to my face!”] He barked. [“Who are you to dare to take me captive and try to pass off as my brother!”] Hanzo was about to rise from his bed finally realizing he wasn’t actually held down by anything. So Genji did the one thing he could do. He took off his faceplate.

[“I am not lying, brother.”] He’d more seen than heard the gasp leaving Hanzo’s lips. The older Shimada brother staring at Genji with unadulterated horror.

Genji knew this would have to happen eventually but it still made his insides squeeze in pain to see his brother’s eyes flicker over his scarred face, raw emotion clearly visible to the world at large but most importantly Genji himself. This was not the Hanzo who was aware of what had happened Genji, who expected him to be dead so a sea of scars was nothing to him compared to Genji being alive.

This Hanzo expected Genji to be whole, young and foolishly carefree. The only things Genji could never be again.

[“Genji…”] Hanzo breathed and it sounded shocked and pained to the point of tears. And gods, how easily Genji had forgotten that Hanzo cared about his well-being so much when they were younger. Even as they grew apart, Hanzo used to be his stalwart protector. And as far as this Hanzo knew, he had been successful in that task. [“Genji, what- What had happened to you?”] It could barely qualify as a whisper but to Genji, it had a volume of a shot from McCree’s gun.

[“That is a very long tale, brother. And it is not important at the moment. How are you feeling? Should I alert the doctor?”]

[“Not- I- Genji, what?”] Suddenly there was a hand. Fingers almost grazing the metal of his artificial jaw and he flinched. Pure instinct. Involuntary reaction. But it was enough for Hanzo to drew his hand back with a pained expression and Genji wished to curse at himself as much as at everything else.

He quickly grabbed the retreating hand with both of his, trying to fix the damage done, only too late realizing he’s most likely only making it worse if Hanzo stiffening at the cold touch of metal. In a fraction of a second Genji had decided and steeled himself to face whatever reaction but determined to not let go.

Hanzo’s gaze dropped to their hands. For a few seconds, only their breathing was heard in the infirmary room.

[“I do not understand.”] Hanzo looked up at him. [“How?”]

Genji sighed. [“I suppose I’ll have to explain at least in part if I am to explain what had happened to you. It will sound unbelievable to you but, please, know I am not making any of this up and it’s not any kind of elaborate joke. Can you trust me in that, brother?”]

There was a smallest of pauses before Hanzo gave a tiny nod, not pulling away from Genji’s hold. Genji took a moment to gather his thought and rein in his emotions, before letting out a breath and starting in a calm collected tone.

[“The year is 2076, we recently celebrated my thirty-fifth birthday, actually. We are in an Overwatch base and we are safe here,”] he stressed at the obvious flinch of Hanzo’s body. [“The Shimada Clan is gone. By our hands.”] Hanzo face morphed into a disbelieving gape. Of course, he was still believing in the clan and their family. Probably still at an age when their father was still alive, leadership firmly in hand. Genji knew this had to be said because Hanzo’s loyalty was his strongest suit - Genji was painfully aware - and he would try to go back to them as soon as humanly possible. That didn’t mean Genji wished to see Hanzo’s faith in their family break first hand.

But it had to be done.

[“This,”] he gestured to himself with one hand, [“was their doing. The Overwatch saved me. Brought me back from the brink of death and rebuilt my body. I joined them in return. So did you. We are safe here, brother. Safe and together.”]

Hanzo stared. He stared for so long Genji started to wonder if he suffered some sort of stroke and he managed to miss it during his explanations.

[“That- that is impossible!”] Was what Hanzo exclaimed in the end. [“All of it!”] He began to try to pull his hand from Genji’s grasp but Genji held fast.

[“I assure you, brother. It is not. I know it must sound like it to your ears but surely what you see is proof enough. Do I look like the brother you remember?”]

Hanzo flinched at that. Hesitating before steeling himself again and pulling at his hand with greater strength.

[“It is a trick!”]  

[“It is not, brother, I swear!”] But Hanzo was not having any of it. Genji raised his voice then. [“Ask me something, then, brother! Ask what only Genji would know!”] It was only logical to test him that way and surely Hanzo could see it.

It seemed Hanzo did see it. As he stopped pulling away and looked at him with considering frown, his body still taut and ready to flee at a moments notice. Genji knew this was his one and only chance before things turn out violent. And he hoped with all his might Hanzo’s about to ask something he actually remembered. He lost many of his memories of their earlier years - some unintentionally but some took a great deal of suppression.

[“After-”] Hanzo seemed to hesitate after the first word but then he squared his shoulders and pierced Genji with a hard glare usually reserved for only the untrustworthy ones. Genji did not take it personally. Not this time. [“After mother died. How did you cope?”]

Genji blinked. He had not expected it to go in that direction but he supposed it made sense. They never really talked about those times so that would make them a truly private shared experience. [“Badly,”] he said with a wry but not happy twist of his lips, [“but I do not think that is what you have in mind, is it, brother? No. And I suppose it wasn’t that big of a secret I tended to abandon my bed in favor of sharing yours with you. But no one knows that you went against orders of the elders and summoned your dragons just so they would play with me and soothe me to sleep. Is that the answer you wanted to hear?”]

Genji felt the stir of his own spirit guardian under his skin and did not try to stop her when the green glow appeared and coalesced into a smallish version of the dragon he was now used to see mostly only during battles. It made something in him fiercely ache. At her hesitation. At her broken trust. At the fact she did not reveal herself to his brother since their reunion, even as he fully understood her forgiveness was not to be so easily given no matter her master’s thoughts on the subject. He would not have even considered calling upon her. But now she was here anyway, at her own volition and Genji could not be more grateful.

[“Or maybe this will help you believe.”]

Hanzo let out a breath and closed his eyes for a briefest of moments as his shoulders sagged.

[“You’ve always been quite good at making me disregard their orders.”] Hanzo said with a slightly trembling smile touching the corners of his lips, his eyes roaming over the green dragon floating just out of reach before she settled on Genji’s shoulder as if their past had not happened.

No, that was not right, it did happen and she was fully conscious of that. But somehow she was here anyway. Curious. Wary. Concerned. And with one overwhelming thought: this is their Hanzo. _Their brother._

Pang of sharp pain somewhere in Genji’s chest made him twitch in Hanzo’s direction, but he abruptly stopped himself. Hanzo didn’t seem to notice, now looking down at their joined hands.

[“You must know that what you are saying sounds impossible and insane, don’t you?”] Hanzo finally looked up. There was a hope in his eyes Genji was able to read fairly easily. Hanzo hoped it was all just an elaborate ruse. Something he could yell at Genji for and then laugh at later.

Genji nodded sadly. [“I know, brother. But, it’s true. And I am truly sorry something like this is happening to you.”]

Hanzo stared at him in disbelief. [“To me? Genji, our family tried to kill you! Why would you worry about me?”] Genji’s heart squeezed at the genuine feeling in those words. He could barely remember the last time he heard this much open emotion in Hanzo’s voice. It wasn’t something he prepared for. Something he even remembered to prepare for. It simply did not occur to him that he would face brother that cared so openly about him. Who would willingly express affection for him.

It was mostly that, he told himself later, that made him go stiff and unresponsive when Hanzo’s arms suddenly found their way around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug, making Ramen fly up and out of reach again. Hugs were rare even in their past but in their present? They were nothing but passing fantasies during fleeting moments of hopefulness.

It was only when Hanzo let go of him that Genji managed to scrape some of his composure and school his face into something less raw and betraying. Luckily Hanzo seemed preoccupied with touching Genji’s metal arms and hands, his eyes filled with grief he couldn’t even begin to understand - and if Genji would have his way Hanzo will never fully understand. For Hanzo unburdened by guilt was something Genji desired for a long time now.

[“You should worry about yourself more, brother. My wounds are old and in the past. Yours, on the other hand, are quite new and definitely concerning.”]

Hanzo frowned at him. [“I’m feeling fine, Genji.”]

[“That may be true, Hanzo, but you are not fine. Do you not find it strange that you do not remember your own life? I mean, you should be thirty-eight but you only remember to be what twenty?”]

[“Nineteen.”] Hanzo corrected automatically before pausing with a bewildered expression. [“Thirty-eight?!”]

Genji had to bite down a chuckle at the horror in his brother’s expression.

[“Yes, though you do not look like it right now. You were caught in an accident with, for the lack of better description, a time travel device.”]

[“Time travel device.”] Hanzo’s deadpan tone nearly made Genji wince.

He understood. Truly he did. It sounded ridiculous even to his own ears and he understood the situation, unlike Hanzo.

[“It’s complicated.”] He tried instead. [“There is a lot of science that goes far beyond my understanding. But it is true nonetheless and we have to deal with the current situation. Somehow. I think we can count us lucky that only two of you were affected and neither of you is critical to the solution.”]

Hanzo’s eyebrow arched most impressively at the insinuation of his uselessness before furrowing them in confusion as he looked around. [“Two of us?”]

Genji leaped at the safer topic. [“Yes. McCree is held in the room next to this one. The doctor deemed it best to debrief you separately since-”] Genji waved his hand, trying to encompass the complexity and delicacy of the situation before promptly giving up and going back to using his words. [“Let’s say his life was even more complex than ours at that age. Which I guess is eighteen if yours is nineteen.”] That made him wince for real which in turn caught Hanzo’s attention if the questioning look was anything to go by. [“I do not know that much about it but I know he was not very well settled at that point of his life and there may be quite a task ahead of our friends over there.”] He gestured over his shoulder in the direction of the aforementioned room. Hanzo nodded, his eyes flicking to the wall and back to Genji.

[“And I’ve been with this… McCree you said?”] He confirmed with Genji and Genji nodded. [“I’ve been with him dealing with what exactly?”]

Genji wasn’t sure how much he should share, most of it seemed useless without the context of the years past and there was no way he had enough time to explain the history of Overwatch in its entirety. [“You were on a mission against a criminal organization and both you and McCree went to help your teammate when she got hit by the enemy sniper. That shot was what caused Lena’s chronal accelerator to malfunction.”]

Hanzo stared at him. [“Malfunction.”] He deadpanned after a few seconds, before waving it away with a grimace that indicated a potential headache lurking. [“Crime organization, you said. Was it-?”]

[“No,”] Genji answered quickly and decisively, sobering. [“The Clan as you remember it is gone, Hanzo. There is but a shadow left behind.”]

There were several things happening on Hanzo’s face and Genji understood. He truly did. This Hanzo only remembered Shimada Clan as the proud strong organization it used to be under their father’s rule. His loyalty to them was unwavering. Yet here Genji was, telling him not just that the whole clan is gone but that they betrayed that loyalty. And not for the first time, it crossed his mind this may be too bitter a pill for Hanzo to swallow.

The silence stretched. Genji waited.

He watched Hanzo’s face change with each emotion and it felt slightly surreal to see his brother’s expressions shared so freely with him. He’d grown so used to Hanzo’s closed off mask by now.

[“And you say Father is-”] Hanzo stopped clearly unable to voice the reality.

[“Yes. for a long time now, brother.”]

[“I see.”] A moment of silence, then Hanzo’s eyes found his. [“And you?”]

Of course, Genji knew what Hanzo meant and it shouldn’t irk him his brother wouldn’t formulate his question more precisely. After all, Hanzo couldn’t know how Genji felt about it so he logically went with the careful approach. It was that that helped Genji keep his tone and expression leveled. [“Also a long time ago, brother.”]

He failed to notice himself but from the movement of Hanzo’s gaze and the surprise written on his face, he realized his dragon disappeared back into the tatters of his tattoo.

Yes, that too must have seemed strange to this Hanzo. Their dragons had always been affectionate with each other and both of them. Now, Hanzo never saw Genji’s dragon outside of battle and Genji was no longer comforted by two blue dragons whenever his sleep was eluding him or nightmares made themselves known.

But the Hanzo in front of him did not know that and so was understandably confused but the sudden lack of the green dragon spirit.

Genji could see the wheels of Hanzo’s mind working, trying to piece the tatters of information together. But Hanzo didn’t ask. Something old and bitter in Genji sneered at that. Making assumption was always something Hanzo was good at.

Genji was unaware what his face looked like at the moment but the next question from Hanzo’s shattered it anyway.

[“Are you alright, Genji?”] And that along with the worried sincerity of Hanzo’s tone made all Genji’s anger snuff out, leaving him gapingly empty.

His brother. There, right across from him was sitting _his brother_.

And Genji’s soul screamed for him.

 

\-----

 

Hanzo still had Genji. He needed to remember that, he kept reminding himself as he was trying to navigate the foreign building without any particular destination in mind.

He could not even begin to describe how much of a relief it was to still have his brother, because he knew he could cope with all this strangeness no matter how impossible it seemed now if he had this one unshakable pillar in his world.

Dealing with this _and_ the loss of his brother? That would be too much.

Hanzo would _break_.

And yes, he was aware it is an enormous weakness of his but for once in his life, he did not care for what Elders called his ‘glaring flaw’. He needed Genji to anchor him. Be it a Genji who was nearly twenty years his senior and more of a stranger than anything else. Still, he was enough for Hanzo to not succumb to the insanity of this situation.

Instead, he focused on cold hard facts his brother was conveying him.

This is the future. (Or present. Was he the past?)

They are with Overwatch.

The Clan is gone.

The Elders betrayed them.

The fury simmering under his skin since the first revelation began to rise up again as Hanzo’s seemingly purposeful strides were cutting off of the hallway, quickly leaving it behind him as he turned around yet another corner into another dull nondescript corridor. The surroundings doing nothing to quelch the fury inside of him, feeding his frustration instead.

They tried to kill his brother.

The Shimada clan. Their _family_. And they attempted to do it anyway! Assassinate one of the scions, like-

He cut the train of thought and took a long, deep breath. Closing his eyes and centering himself like the long years of practice ingrained it into his very bones.

The Elders are dead. The thought filled with satisfaction brought a small smile to his lips. They are gone but Genji is still here.

Hanzo’s mind strayed to his brother’s appearance, his heart grew heavy with sorrow. He could barely recognize him. All the memories he had were of the vibrant boy with a free spirit and an unfortunate taste for flashy fashion. The man Genji was now was hardened by pain and suffering. The two things Hanzo hoped would never be part of Genji’s future. For as much as he sometimes resented his brother for all the leeway that was given to him but never to Hanzo, it was nothing compared to the affection he felt for his little brother. And seeing his body turned into a patchwork of technology and scarred flesh broke something vital in Hanzo. Something he did not know he had.

But it was gone now, shattered, and in its stead were the fury towards whoever inflicted that pain and a thirst for revenge. For he knew that even if the order came from the Elders there had to be someone else who wielded the weapon against Genji and there was no suffering great enough for the ones responsible for his brother’s pain. He hoped his older self was neglectful and there was someone left for him to punish. Hanzo was determined to find them and inflict every ounce of pain Genji suffered times thousand.

But that also brought another thought Hanzo wasn’t sure how to deal with. Why wasn’t Genji protected. By Hanzo. By their father.

He should- they should have had protected Genji. Unless… No. No, that wouldn’t have happened, he knew better than assume something so horrifying and dishonorable.

No, their father loved them. Genji maybe even more so than Hanzo.

Probably the reason Genji wasn’t protected was that their father was… that their father wasn’t there to protect him, anymore.

The corridor was somehow suddenly devoid of air. Hanzo paused in his stride, shaking his head. No, that was not possible. This was just him being weak. He could hear the sneers of his teachers in the back of his mind. _Weakling. Disgrace._

He needed to be strong. Be strong for Genji. He needed to protect the only family he had left!

His lungs constricted in a protest. He could feel the pain behind his ribs and it made him double over.

“Oh wow there!” A shadow of a voice penetrated the veil of self-loathing for a brief second. Hanzo gasped for air but there was none. He will fail. He will be a disgrace to the name Shimada and he will _fail_.

“Okay, pardner, let’s get you outta here. Come on.” Someone was pulling him. Hanzo dug his heels into the floor but he couldn’t fight his lungs and the grasping hands at once, his mind was not responding correctly.

“Just a little bit, just to get ya some air. Don’t be stubborn.” The hands pulled and Hanzo lost. An arm around him directed him to the right and after a few stops through a door. Any other time Hanzo would be furious to be pushed around like that, and alright, maybe he was a bit even now, but mostly he was just relieved when he felt the breeze in his face. Taking breaths like a drowning man, choking on it but not giving up.

“There we go. You’ll be fine.” A drawl and a pat on the shoulder.

Hanzo half stepped half stumbled aside, leaning against a wall, implementing every calming exercise his overexerted brain could come up with.

It took embarrassingly long minutes for him to get his breathing under control enough for it to be satisfactory. He peeked through his bangs now hanging in a disgraceful way over his face. He was probably sweaty, too.

They were standing on a small balcony overlooking what looked like a loading dock, a cliffside, and a stunning view of the sea. Magnified by the colors of the setting sun.

Hanzo stared at the young man who had turned his back to him in the meantime, probably to at least give him some semblance of privacy. Futile attempt but appreciated nonetheless.

Slim figure with long legs but nearly lost in the baggy clothes, obviously too big for him by several sizes. A shaggy brown hair that in the sunlight had a reddish hue to it and a very red bandana around his neck.

“I take it yer the other temporally messed up?” The man (boy?) drawled in a thick accent as he kept his eyes on the horizon.

Hanzo was for a moment thrown by the sentence before remembering he wasn’t the only one afflicted.

“McCree I presume?” Hanzo asked, his voice coming out rougher than he expected and he cleared his throat with a grimace.

The boy, Hanzo decided, turned around at that. “Yep, Jesse McCree at yer service,” he said with a nod, his hand rising to his head before it floundered a bit and instead he thrust it forward at Hanzo, who looked at it for a few seconds before deciding to take it.

“Shimada Hanzo. I am sorry you had to witness… that,” he gestured vaguely to the wall and door behind him. He could feel the color rise in his cheeks, cursing inwardly. But at this point, he could barely do much more to worsen the first impression.

McCree just waved it away with a shrug.

“Don’t stress it, I get it. ‘S not much of a picnic for me either.” He turned back to gaze at the sea and taking a swing from a flask he pulled from who knows where.

Hanzo stood there for several beats unsure if he should leave or stay or talk or stay silent and it was mildly frustrating to be so out of sorts. He was unused to not being in control. Even worse was that he had a feeling this wouldn’t change anytime soon.

It startled him when McCree spoke again.

“Also, I wouldn’t judge a friend.” Then he held the flask towards Hanzo in a clear offering.

Hanzo arched an eyebrow. That was a bold declaration from a stranger. A bit too bold. “Am I your friend?” he asked in an intentionally mild and impersonal tone but did not refuse the offered alcohol and taking a swing of his own, the alcohol burning all the way down, the taste unpleasant. McCree didn’t seem to catch it as he just shrugged and shot him a quick grin, before pushing his hand into his pocket and then pulling it out again, holding something akin to a piece of paper.

No, a photograph.

“We were. Or gonna be. Or, eh, I dunno, but I found this in mah things. Sort of.” He turned it so Hanzo could see and Hanzo’s breath hitched.

That… that was him?

He took it from the boy with a hand that did not shake probably only thanks to the shock.

“I assume that’s you anyway.” He took the flask back from Hanzo's unprotesting fingers.

“...I think it is.” Hanzo confirmed belatedly, too distracted by what he was seeing.

The photograph trembled slightly, his hands finally catching up with his brain. He closed his eyes tight, taking a deep breath through his nose, focusing on the smell of the sea and metal and smoke. The warm, smoky aftertaste on his tongue. The burn still echoing in his throat. Anything to calm his whirlwind of a mind. Losing control once was quite enough.

“Ya okay, buddy?”

Hanzo blindly held the photograph for McCree to take, pulling his hand back when he felt it slip from his fingers. He took two more breaths before replying. Not completely sure why except for that the other option was staying silent and that seemed unbearable.

“I do not know.” The admission shook him. He looked at McCree who was watching him intently, a worried sort of frown marring the youthful face. “I know logically that the man on the picture is me. But looking at it, all I can see is my father.”

“Ah.” Was all McCree said, looking down at the picture. For a split of a second Hanzo thought he’s going to say more but McCree’s jaw clenched then, clearly changing his mind.

Hanzo should follow his example but for some reason, he did not.

“He was- I was thinking about him. When you found me.”

Why? Why was he still speaking? Why did he felt the need to share with a stranger what he would not normally share with even his own brother?

“Sounds about right,” McCree murmured almost more to himself than to Hanzo.

They stood in silence, only passing the flask from time to time.

McCree watching the sun disappear and Hanzo focusing on the birds circling above the cliff and the shallows. Their cries soothing his agitation, if only slightly.

The ever-changing breeze took Hanzo’s unbound fringe, flicking it across his face. He did not bother to push it aside. It almost felt like another layer he could hide behind and after feeling so exposed he would take it.

There was no reason for either for them to break the silence. And if asked Hanzo wouldn’t be able to say why he did. Maybe he could blame the false warmth of the alcohol.

“When I woke up, there was a man sitting next to my bed. My brother as I discovered soon enough. Just more a machine than a human and twenty years older than he should be.

He told me what had happened and I did not believe him.

He shoved me a proof and I wished it was just one of his stupid pranks.

But it’s not. My clan is gone. And my family betrayed us and attempted to murder my brother. The life I know is gone. My purpose is gone. And there is no one to give me guidance because my brother tells me our father is long since dead.” Hanzo took a shaky breath, dropping his head and focusing his gaze on his hands gripping the rail.

The press of a bony shoulder against his took him completely by surprise. Looking up through his hair he could see McCree still looking at the now darkened horizon, but the corners of his mouth downturn and lips tight. A bone-deep sadness radiating from every inch of his face.

Hanzo felt stricken.

“Yeah,” McCree let out, barely a breath. “Mine’s gone too.”


	4. Chapter 4

Genji was staring at Hanzo. Not just because his brother was looking almost unfamiliar to him now but because of the state he was in. Visibly tired, with dark circles under his eyes and sagging shoulders. Looking much worse than Jesse next to him. And he was grazing fingers of his right hand over the forearm of his left with a worried frown. It wouldn’t be such a strange sight if he hadn’t been doing it for nearly the whole past three hours. 

“Is something wrong, anija?” He asked, effectively cutting of Winston mid-sentence. He would apologize later. His brother’s behavior was more worrying at the moment. 

Hanzo flinched, looking up at them. The rest of the people in the room turned to stare at Hanzo as well. 

“Are you not feeling well?” Angela asked, her tone professional and her expression of worried concentration. Genji was aware her distaste for his brother but was grateful to her not to show it in front of this version of Hanzo. Who would not understand but would be sure to ask questions. 

“Ah, I apologize. It’s nothing.” He pulled his hands away, hiding them under the conference table. 

Normally, Genji would let it go at that. But right now it did not feel right. They could not afford to omit anything. 

“Hanzo, please. You can speak freely here.” 

Hanzo scowled at him, his eyes flashing at being pushed. Genji did not let himself be intimidated, instead, he steadily returned Hanzo’s glare. His faceplate making it for him probably a bit easier. It took several moments before Hanzo gave in with a huff. 

“There is nothing anyone can do but if you wish.” He frowned at his left arm again. “I cannot reach them.”

Genji sucked in a breath. “Your dragons,” he said more for the benefit of others in the room than his and Hanzo’s. 

Hanzo inclined his head. 

“At all?” Genji asked, unconsciously putting a hand on his own shoulder where his dragon tattoo used to be. 

“I can still feel our connection. But it feels more like an echo of our usual bond. And I cannot summon them.”

Murmur run through the room. That news was worrisome on many levels. But Genji mostly focused on how lost Hanzo’s expression was, the young man forgetting to guard it as his older version would. 

“Could they be affected of what had happened to you?” Winston asked curiously, pushing his glasses up as he peered at Hanzo. 

The man in question scowled. “I do not know what happened to me, so I cannot tell you.” 

“Ah, yes,” Winston reacted, shuffling the papers in front of him. The whole point of this meeting was to discuss what happened and why. So far there was a lot of technical jargon flying around and not enough explanations. Genji couldn’t really blame Hanzo for feeling annoyed. 

But Winston took it in stride, as he did with most things. Clearing his throat before resuming where he stopped. “Ehm, as I was saying before. The span of time Hanzo and McCree lost indicates that Tracer ended up in a time about two decades back.” His face morphed into a worried grimace. “That is not good, for her, that is, Slipstream project was still in the development phase at that point in time and there won’t be anyone who could help her fix her chronal accelerator. She will have to wait and hope one of her unpredictable jumps will take her somewhere where she can get help, possibly from past me, and come back to us, or even better reappear in our time. 

We cannot do much more than wait for that to happen, no matter how much it pains me to say it.” Angela put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a pat. 

“Lena is strong, Winston. She will find her way back to us as always.”

Winston let out a breath and the look on his face was grateful. He sat straighter and gestured for Athena. A hologram of the chronal accelerator appeared in the middle of the table. 

“It also means the affected accelerator is still with her and we are limited in what information we can gather. This is the version she was wearing during the battle. We are working on possible scenarios of what could have gone wrong for this to happen. Scientifically it does not make sense. It’s not what we predicted could happen in a situation like this.” 

Genji tilted his head questioningly. “What eventualities you predicted?” 

Winston shrugged. “In all honesty, they should have been either dead or gravely injured from the explosion itself, or they should have been pulled with her. The fact they somehow managed to stay  _ and _ go back in time is impossible.”

“Clearly not,” muttered McCree who was surprisingly quiet about it all up until now. Genji couldn’t stop the tiny smirk. His friend was sitting next to Hanzo, both of them dressed in old overwatch sparring gears, and even if it somewhat fits Hanzo, Jesse is drowning in it nearly as much as in the clothes of his adult self. Combined with the red bandanna around his neck and oversized hat on his head, he looked utterly ridiculous. Also, he was pouting. Genji had to bite his upper lip to stop the chuckle threatening to escape. 

Winston grumbled something, that might have been something unflattering about the universe not working as it supposed to. 

“Do you think it could be connected?” Mei asked from her chair, her gaze flicking between the hologram and Hanzo. It took Genji a beat to catch up and he straightened as he did. 

“That is a very good question.” 

He exchanged look with Hanzo. The other shook his head in response. “I do not know.” His expression didn’t betray his feelings to the room at large but Genji could see everything in his gaze. Hanzo was lost. 

Hanzo was one of the youngest Shimadas ever to receive his dragon. Two of them even. And he soon became attuned to them to degree Genji envied for a time. For him to not be able to connect with them? 

Genji could relate. For a certain period of his life, he was also unable to connect properly with his dragon and it just added more agony to his already tortured mind and soul. But he at least understood why they weren’t able to connect. Hanzo just lost them without any explanation. 

There was a gasp from his right, where Torbjorn was sitting and a scrape of the chair legs against the floor. 

“Vhat the-” 

A green glow made Genji instantly aware, his thoughts questioning as he pushed them at the other one. He could feel her hesitance but also her determination, as her lithe body formed and slithered through the air. She kept her form rather small, maybe the size of a sea otter and her hind legs and tail stayed mostly as a light, not fully formed and connecting her to Genji. 

To anyone who knew spirit dragons like he and Hanzo do would be her hesitance and caution obvious. The others could not have been any wiser. 

In periphery Genji noticed the others staring, Jesse unashamedly gapping even, and he could not blame them. Ramen never showed herself outside of battles. Not to anyone with the sole exception of Zenyatta, and even that happened only a few times. 

She approached Hanzo slowly and mostly silently, stopping a good half a meter away from him. 

Hanzo bowed his head in greeting and a show of respect at the same time, but other than that not moving a muscle. 

Ramen floated down on the table, her body forming a bit more clearly, and crouched down, she began to skid closer. The whole room seemed to stop breathing. Hanzo certainly appeared as a statue. Only his eyes following the dragon’s movements. 

When only a few centimeters were between her and Hanzo’s left arm, still lying on the table, she made a chirping sound, then her snout connected with Hanzo’s skin and she was soaking into him. 

Hanzo had to visibly set his jaw as not to let a single sound out but Genji gasped for all of them.

He could feel her fear. Fear of them. Fear for them. But both overshadowed by a determination to help, to understand what was happening to her brothers. 

Genji was aware it was not his place but he couldn’t stop the fierce pride swelling in his chest. Not just that she fearlessly faced them in battle when he asked it of her but now she was trying to help them. 

Dragons were mighty beings with a long memory and even longer lasting grudges. Broken trust was broken forever. Or so Genji thought. It was why he never pushed his wish to forgive Hanzo on her. They were at war about it for a long time and even now she did not seem happy about his decision. But maybe that changed? 

Or maybe… Genji’s gaze swept over Hanzo’s youthful face and body, maybe her memories were much clearer than his. 

A new wave of perceptions hit Genji. But it came from within. 

Pain. Bone deep exhaustion. Determination. 

Oh. 

These weren’t coming from Ramen. She was just relaying a message. 

Protect. _Protect._ _Protectprotectprotect._

Genji could feel sweat on his forehead, his strength being used by Ramen in a way it wasn’t quite meant to. He leaned forward, taking his faceplate of and gasping for air. 

Cannot help. Time. Too much. Not enough. Cannot help. Go. 

The next moment Ramen was back on the table and returning to him as fast as possible. Her body disintegrating into a pure light, swirling around his neck and soaking back into his body. 

When he looked up, he could see Hanzo shaking, his skin paler than a sheet of parchment, making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent. 

“Genji!” Angela circled the table, rushing to him, but he gestured at her to calm down. 

“I am alright, Angela. It was simply something I am unused to.” He turned back to Hanzo. “Anija?” 

McCree was hovering a bit, his hands close enough to catch Hanzo if needed. A bewildering gesture. But Genji was more focused on Hanzo at the moment and didn’t spare it more than a single thought. 

“That was… unexpected.” Hanzo said when his breathing calmed a bit. “I’ll be fine in a minute.” We swatted at McCree when the cowboy tried to make him lean into the chair. 

“Eh, would someone explain?“ D.Va asked in a slightly annoyed tone. Angela tsked at her, putting a glass of water in front of Genji and walking away to do the same for Hanzo. Who took it gratefully and downed half of it in one go. 

Genji wasn’t sure Hanzo could explain so he took it upon himself, leaning back into the chair and using that moment to arrange his thoughts. 

“My dragon wished to try and contact the two spirits residing in Hanzo. I believe she wished to know what had happened to them.”

The people around the table stared at him in various stages of shock. Some only slightly surprised, like Ana or Soldier. Some, like Lucio, gapping in astonishment. 

“So, that was a real dragon?” The DJ asked, his voice tad higher than usual. 

Genji gave him an indulgent nod. “As real as a spirit can be.”

“ _ Awesome! _ ” 

“What did you think it was?” Pharah asked, sounding stupefied. 

“I don’t know. Maybe a weaponized hard light projection or something? Never gave it much thought before.”

Winston interrupted any other possible commentary by a pointed cough, before returning to the more important topic. “Did she learned something?” 

At that Hanzo’s head lifted, his eyes hopeful. 

Genji frowned. “It wasn’t very clear. I do not think they were able to communicate in full. But she did find out something,” He added before Hanzo could sag again. “They appear to be utterly exhausted.” He decided not to mention the possibility of being in pain. Not now at least. “They are also determined to protect Hanzo. That was a strong feeling. Almost overwhelming.” 

“So they could be the reason why things did not go as predicted?” Winston asked a lively note in his voice. 

Genji shrugged. “It’s possible. The rest, sadly, isn’t so clear. They mentioned time. But as I said, it’s confusing and I cannot tell you more without the possibility of unintentionally misleading you.” 

Several faces fell at that. 

“But from what Ramen tells me, they pushed her out, too weak to communicate more. They also refused her help.” A chide in his mind. “Or could not accept it, she isn’t sure which.” 

Winston hummed, before side-eyeing Genji. “You don’t seem like it calmed your mind?”

“It did not,” Genji admitted gravely. “I do not believe you understand the level of exhaustion we have in mind.” The expression around him told him he was right. “The dragons used all their energy.  _ All of it _ .” 

Hanzo made a shocked sound. 

“You need to understand that the spirits are ridiculously powerful, with a well of energy that should appear inexhaustible. That is what makes me believe they indeed have something to do with Hanzo and McCree staying in the present time, instead of disappearing as you predicted,” he told Winston and then turned to Angela. “The problem is, they are now sapping energy from Hanzo. He now sustains three beings from one body.”

Angela’s eyes widened as she understood. “A human body. With very different and much lower limits,” she said as they all looked at Hanzo, who was still breathing harsher than he should, the glass in front of him now completely empty. His expression, on the other hand, was defiant and proud. 

“Then I will sustain them with whatever they require.” 

Genji was unsurprised. Peeved but unsurprised. 

“You cannot sustain them for very long before it will kill you, anija. Maybe one, but not two.” 

The look Hanzo gave him was determined. It made Genji want to punch him. Or hug him. It was so very much like the Hanzo he remembered. 

“I will do so nonetheless.” Genji barely held in his groan of annoyance. 

“But wait, hey, wait, guys.” Lucio jumped in. “If I understand it correctly, the dragons are like one person deal, right? I mean, you have yours and it takes care of you, and Han has his and they care of him.” 

Genji was confused by where was the musician going with this but nodded anyway. 

“But McCree has none.” Lucio gestured to the cowboy. “So how can he be here just like Hanzo if there were no dragons that made it happen for him?” 

“That is a good point,” the Soldier admitted, a grudging praise in his tone. Lucio beamed at him. 

Genji stared. It was a good point. And he had no idea. 

“Actually,” Ana interrupted in a mild tone, “we might have the answer. I reviewed the footage from both D.Va and Zenyatta several times. But we will need confirmation from you two.” She looked from Genji to Hanzo and back. 

Genji nodded and Winston told Athena to play the relevant part of the footage. 

That was of course form the moment the sniper warning was spoken to the rest of the group getting to the wounded agents lying on the ground. 

The two sources were mushed together, D.Va’s was shakier and with sound, Zenyatta’s had incredibly high resolution and more natural movement but without any sound, as he was too far from the fight for it to be of any importance. 

They watched as D.Va looked around from where the sniper could take a shot so she could try to block it. Turning just in time to see McCree yell his warning and jumping forward where Tracer was in the open. The footage cut from view to view and it felt almost like a slow motion watching Jesse leap as Tracer went down, the shot hitting its mark. He got to her and started dragging her to the nearest cover. From another angle, Hanzo started yelling at McCree. 

There was a second flash from a different place than the sniper was and the realization hit Genji like a brick. Two snipers.

They could see the blindingly white tinged glow of the accelerator just as Hanzo tackled McCree out the sight of the second sniper. They could see Lena gesturing at them to get away, McCree hesitating, Hanzo grabbing him and pulling as the bright blue of Hanzo’s dragons enveloped them both and the bright, white explosion sent them flying. 

The shaky movements of the footage shoved others approaching under Reinhardt’s cover and the shock in D.Va’s voice when they saw for the first time the bodies of Hanzo and McCree lying next to each other, one Hanzo’s hand still in McCree’s serape the other just a shy of McCree’s own. Both much smaller and younger than they should be, in clothes that were too big and scrapes everywhere.

Winston asked Athena to stop the footage at that point. 

“Would that do it?” Ana asked. 

Genji turned to Hanzo, who was still staring at the space where the footage was, and Jesse who was staring at Hanzo. 

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, that would do it.” 

Oh, Hanzo. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hanzo’s ability to concentrate was always his strong suit. There was no need for much guidance from any of his teachers, he took to meditation like koi to a pond - with elegance and tranquility. 

It made his sudden inability to meditate for more than twenty minutes, now, terribly frustrating. And that was without the constant interruptions when he was actually managing it. 

He huffed as the sound of the nearing steps stopped in front of him.

“Howdy, pardner,” McCree’s loud voice did not help the matter. “Thought I would bring you the lunch you missed. The least I can do since apparently, you are the reason I’m still alive.” 

Hanzo peered up at him, eyes squinted against the sun behind the boy. He had the atrocious hat on his head and the red bandanna that clashed with the rest of his clothes horribly. It was like his body and his head were from different eras respectively. 

But he was, in fact, holding a bowl of something and a bottle of water, so Hanzo decided not to take his frustrations out on him, no matter how tempting it was. 

“Thank you.” 

He took the offered food with the slightest of bows, just so he wouldn’t come across as completely lacking manners. Not that the cowboy would notice. Probably. 

Hanzo discreetly sniffed at it, but the abundance of spices in it made it difficult to identify. 

“‘S just some chili. But it ain’t half bad if ya ask me. Think that Mei woman made it but dunno fer sure.” He proceeded to sit down across from Hanzo, putting the water bottle in the shade created between them. Hanzo blinked.

Was he planning on staying? 

McCree grinned at him and cocked his head to the side. “How you feelin’?”  

It appeared so. Hanzo considered him for a moment. 

Jesse McCree was a virtual stranger to him. As were the others. Usually, he would keep to himself or seek the company of his brother. But Genji wasn’t easy to find. Or to talked to. It baffled Hanzo in a way nothing else did. To him, they were close. Sure, they often bickered and Genji could make his life miserable in a way unique to only him. But this was different. The two decades between them were filled with something Hanzo couldn’t comprehend. Not to mention Genji’s irksome insistence of letting past stay past and refusing to divulge any information about the perpetrators of the heinous crime committed against him. To the point where he started to leave the room if Hanzo even mentioned it. 

In this climate, McCree felt to be as close to an ally Hanzo as could get here. 

And he could be a decent distraction. If with bad timing. 

“Tired,” Hanzo admitted, spooning a mouthful of the chili. The burst of flavor nearly makes him groan in approval. And his expression must have shown it because the cowboy’s ridiculous grin grew even wider. 

“Good, huh? I gotta admit I was surprised, too. It has a nice kick to it.” 

Hanzo could feel the aforementioned kick as he chewed and swallowed, the spices making his mouth and throat burn in a very pleasant manner. 

“My ma used to make a mean chili. Lesser men started bawling like a bunch of children after a single bite.” 

By now Hanzo learned to take whatever the cowboy said with a grain of salt, as they say here. But this time it did not sound like boasting but more like a plain truth. Definitely a fond memory. Hanzo could relate. 

“This isn’t as good but should still make ya feel a bit livelier.” 

That warranted a frown. 

“I do not need to be lively,” Hanzo all but sneered the last word. “I simply need to gather more strength to cater the need of the dragons.” 

“‘S what I said.” McCree made an ‘who me?’ sort of face and Hanzo narrowed his eyes at him. Genji had a similar expression. Nothing good ever followed. “Anyway, wanted to ask about them.”

“About what?”

McCree nodded in the direction of the chili and it took Hanzo a bit to realize what he meant. 

“The spirit dragons are not something commonly discussed with strangers.”

“‘M not a stranger!” McCree gasped in mock offense. “You wound me, Shimada. We are friends!” 

Hanzo only arched eyebrow at the cowboy’s theatrics. 

“Rude.” McCree tipped his hat up with a flick of his finger. It felt right back since it was too big for him. Hanzo couldn’t stop the smirk. 

A blush crawled across the boy’s cheeks but his eyes did not lose any of the mischievous light. 

“I take it the folks in your family wouldn’t approve of ya telling me?” 

For a second Hanzo had to marvel if McCree could be so cunning as to discover the one sure way to make Hanzo tell him whatever he wished to know. Or if it was just a happy accident on McCree’s part. Either way, the thought of sharing the information in spite of the Elders and everyone else in the Shimada clan made him amiable to talking. 

“Indeed, they would not.” There was a pause where Hanzo took another bite of his food, before looking back at McCree. “What do you wish to know?”

The grin was nearly blinding. Or it would be if the sun were to set anywhere but behind the cowboy. 

Hanzo probably should have expected the barrage of questions ranging from when, where, how and why to their names, characters, and funny stories. 

He answered maybe third of the questions and felt he’s being more than generous. He held no hope of stopping McCree anytime soon and began to worry a bit when a beep of his comm interrupted the newest stream of inquiries. 

“Shimada Hanzo, here,” he answered without so much as a glance at McCree who cut himself off mid-word. 

“Hanzo, good,” the voice of doctor Ziegler reached his ear. “If you could please come to the infirmary, we have something that may be able to help with your fatigue.” 

“On my way,” Hanzo confirmed, getting up in a fluid motion despite the stiffness in his legs. McCree followed his suit but much less gracefully. Grabbing Hanzo’s discarded bowl and the now empty water bottle. 

“Ya hafta go?” 

Hanzo nodded. “Doctor Ziegler wishes to show me something.”

McCree shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then smiled. It looked a bit dim in comparison with the smiles of the past hour. 

“Guess, I’ll leave ya to it, then. Don’t worry none, I’ll take these back with me,” he gestured with the used dishes. 

Hanzo nearly opened his mouth to invite McCree to join him. But that was a foolish idea. There was no reason for McCree to want to accompany him to the infirmary. Especially when he preferred to avoid the place altogether. 

“Thank you, McCree,” Hanzo gave a small bow and headed over to the entrance into the building C. 

He nearly reached it when from behind him McCree shouted. “Ya know, ya can call me Jesse!” 

 

\---

 

Stretched on a bed with sensors sticking from some truly odd places Hanzo was grateful he did not ask McCree to come with him. No one needed to see this. It was bad enough he had to play a guinea pig for an overly enthusiastic DJ/medic and an aloof doctor, who seemed to always be on a verge of stabbing him with a needle. 

“Do you need me to explain it again?” Lucio asked and Hanzo shook his head. From what he understood, they did not require anything from him but to lay still and listen. 

Slightly bizarre but hardly the weirdest thing that happened to him this week. 

There were several speakers strategically placed around the bed, two behind his head, two on each side and one bigger at his feet. They were clearly wired to the medical machines and another equipment he couldn’t recognize. 

“Alright, everything’s ready here. Angela?” 

She gave a nod and a wave for Lucio to proceed without even looking up from her tablet. 

“Okay, Hanzo, we will start low and gradually add more if or when you give us a go ahead. Ready?”

“Yes.” 

It started more as a vibration or a whisper deep in his bones. It wasn’t bad but it definitely felt strange. Hanzo had to stomp on his desire to squirm away from it. 

After, what he guessed, were few minutes he nodded at Lucio, who nodded right back and turned something on what appeared to be a cross between a speaker and a weapon. Hanzo had never seen anything even distantly resembling it. 

The low thrum was now louder and Hanzo could finally recognize a rhythm to it. It now sounded more like music. 

It took him much longer to notice that the low thrum of music replaced the budding headache he felt starting when he got to the infirmary. Curious, he gestured to Lucio, again. 

Louder now, there was a clearly distinguishable melody that made Hanzo’s muscles thrum with energy. But not the unpleasant pent up kind of energy. This simply made Hanzo feel energized in a completely natural way. 

He couldn’t quite hide his amazement. 

“I think it’s working,” Lucio said in a joyous tone, looking over at doctor Ziegler. Her face was still facing down as she tapped away, a frown creasing her forehead. After few seconds she smiled. 

“The vitals are normalizing. How do you feel, Hanzo?” 

“Awake.” Hanzo blurted before he could truly think about it. It wasn’t maybe the clearest word he could use but it felt entirely accurate. Both, Hanzo’s mind and body, felt ready to function as it should. No muddiness, no heavy limbs or aches that made no sense. He felt… normal. 

He didn’t bother to stop the deep sigh of relief. Not even minding when Lucio fist-pumped. 

Angela’s reaction was more leveled but no less ecstatic. 

“I believe this, combined with a proper high-calorie diet with added nutrients, could help level out any undue drain of energy the dragons cause. There is much we still need to determine, primarily if the effect of the rejuvenation passes when disconnected, or if it last, for how long it does. When we know that we can come up with a schedule.”

“You mean to repeat it regularly?” Hanzo asked. It would be far from ideal to have spent much time like this. But on the other hand, he felt immensely better even after such a short time, it just might be worth it. It’s not like he had any responsibilities here. He and McCree were both ‘grounded’ as the gorilla, Winston, called it. 

“Most certainly. I think every day for sure, maybe even twice a day. It will depend on how fast will your condition deteriorate. Right now, your body is exhausted to the point where I would be under normal circumstances considering hospitalization. But Genji assured me it would do more harm than good.” 

Hanzo was yet again grateful to whatever deity that let him have his brother at his side during this ordeal. And he felt a pinprick of guilt at having made Genji run from him. He resolved to find Genji after this and apologize. He might still believe his wrath to be justified but he would honor Genji’s wish to let it be. For now. 

“Alright alright, let’s do some more testing!”

 

\---

 

“Master,” Genji greeted when the familiar sound of whirling fans got close enough for him not to have to raise his voice. He also didn’t change his position knowing exactly where is Zenyatta going to position himself. And what his next words will be. 

“I sense a discord in you, my student. Is something troubling you that you would like to share with me?”

Genji briefly considered not to but chastised himself for it almost immediately. 

“It’s my brother, Master.” 

“Ah. How is young Hanzo doing? This situation is quite strange to us all but it must be twice so to him and young McCree.” Zenyatta’s calming tone making the inquiry nearly imperceptible were it not for the wording. 

“He is… different than I remember.” 

“Does that surprise you?” 

Genji slumped slightly. “It does. And it doesn’t.” He himself didn’t quite understand what was trying to say by that and he knew that stopping was always an option. But it would resolve nothing. 

“Often I wished to have my brother back, you know that, Master. Yet, now that it happened, even if in an unexpected and a bit more literal way, I’m… disdainful of it. And I do not understand why! For is it not exactly what I had hoped for?” 

Genji made himself stop and breathe as his words were getting more and more forceful with each syllable. Zenyatta next to him hummed in contemplation, not making any other move or saying anything for a while to give Genji chance to rein his emotions in. 

“Is it?” Zenyatta finally asked and Genji only barely stopped himself from flinching. “Is this the brother you wished to see again?”

Genji frowned at that. 

Hanzo in the last few days, despite the circumstances, was not exactly the Hanzo he remembered but that seemed to be a direct response to the lack of the Clan’s control over him. Them. Hanzo expressed himself more freely and that included his fondness and protectiveness towards Genji. And that should be a good thing! 

“I- He acts like none of it happened!”

Zenyatta hummed again. “He has no memory of your past, you know that, Genji. You made sure he has no information about it as well.”

“I do not wish for him to live burned by his guilt for the rest of this days.” And that was true. Genji wished Hanzo could let go of his guilt for good.

“He lives that way now. Is it not how you imagined it?” 

“No!” Genji took a deep breath. “I mean yes, he is guilt free, as much as Hanzo can be anyway,” Genji rolled his eyes behind his faceplate because trust Hanzo to blame himself anyway even if Genji specifically said it was the Clan’s doing. “But this is not the Hanzo I’ve come to know. The one that had come to know me.” 

“Ah,” Zenyatta made an understanding sound. Genji came to both yearn for and dread of that sound, as it marked the point his Master wished for him to get to. Marking Genji’s understanding, be it for better or worse.

At this time Genji felt mostly relief and resignation. 

“I wish for my brother to move on. With me. This… this is more of a reset and it feels wrong. Hanzo does not know me anymore, Zenyatta.” 

He missed him. Guilt-ridden and all. 

Does he wish for Hanzo to let go of his guilt? Yes. But not like this. This old or, well, young Hanzo… “I feel he expects something of me that I can no longer give.”

“Do you feel yourself lacking? Maybe disappointing your brother by who you are now? That maybe he wishes for the brother you used to be?”

This time Genji did flinch and a moment later Zenyatta settled one of his hands on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. 

“Genji, you have grown so much since we met and even before that. Do you truly find disappointing who you are now?”

“...No.” Genji let himself lean into the touch. He grew used to his limited ability to physically feel but with Zenyatta somehow even the smallest of touches felt  _ more _ . To Genji that was more grounding than anything else.

“I am glad to hear that.” And Zenyatta did sound pleased. It made warmth spread through him at the freely displayed approval.

“As for Hanzo,” Zenyatta continued, “experience would suggest time cannot be truly rewound and whatever happened is only temporary. Why not treat it as such? The mind is a marvelous thing indeed but it is flawed and forgetful. Treat this as an opportunity to remind yourself of the good times and things that might have been lost in the chasm of time. It may help you when you are again faced with the Hanzo who does remember but does not wish to. It may help both of you.”

They fell silent after that, sitting side by side watching the sun set behind the horizon until even the slightest glimpse of light disappeared from the sky. 

“Thank you, Master.”

It was only then that Zenyatta took his hand off Genji’s shoulder but not before giving it one last comforting squeeze. 

For the first time since the incident, Genji truly looked forward to seeing Hanzo, again. 


	6. Chapter 6

They were sitting under the cliffs on what could be called a beach if one felt generous enough. They had decided to take a walk after Hanzo’s morning rejuvenation session when he felt energized and pain-free. He wished to train but Genji was adamant about not pushing himself and offered to walk with him around the Watchpoint and show him some of his favorite places instead. 

Hanzo took him up on that offer and that’s how they ended up here, hiding from the midday sun under an outcropping of rocks. 

Things were better between them now. Hanzo stopped pushing on Genji to reveal who made the attempt on his life and in turn, Genji was no longer avoiding him. It made Hanzo’s breathing feel easier, though there was no physical reasoning for it. 

He decided not to dwell on it. 

“I’ve met the omnic monk this morning, what is his name…”

“Zenyatta.” Genji supplied automatically. 

“Yes, thank you. Though I think I’ve only ever heard you calling him Master. Aren’t you close with him?” 

Genji turned to him, his head cocked to the side, but the faceplate made reading him difficult. Hanzo still had a feeling he was being laughed at more often than not. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Genji spoke and his voice rang with barely suppressed laughter. “I am.” 

Hanzo glared at him. Genji was willfully making him spell out his questions. He had a suspicion he was doing as some sort of revenge for the days where Hanzo had made him do the same thing. Which was patently unfair. He was the older brother here.

“How did you manage to cross paths with a Shambali monk, brother?”

Genji turned to look at the sea again. 

“He saved me. In every sense of the word.” 

Hanzo stiffened at that. But when Genji did not continue he decided to wait instead of pushing. He is fully capable of learning from his lessons. 

He was rewarded for it several moments later. 

“When Overwatch saved me and gave me this new body, I did not take to it well. Sure, I agreed to it but the reality is never the same as our expectations. And I hated the reality with every fiber of my new being.”

Hanzo gripped the cloth of his sweatpants in tight fists to prevent himself from reaching out and intrude on his brother’s space, unsure if any offered comfort would be welcome. Genji hadn’t notice, still looking forward. 

“I fought at their side and for their cause, but my spirit was wrathful and my body- I wished to walk again and I could but I was lacking a destination. 

When we destroyed the Clan I could not stay any longer. It didn’t change anything, Hanzo. I’ve enacted my revenge and it fixed nothing. That was when I decided to travel, hoping maybe something or someone would explain to me what I am. Who I am. 

It was a long journey. From Switzerland, through Europe, and to the East. 

There is very little that is more breathtaking than a sunrise in a desert, brother. It nearly equals to the sight of the cherry blossoms dance in the breeze on the castle grounds on a sunny day.”

Hanzo found that hard to believe. But Genji’s wistful tone made him keep his protests to himself. 

He was just now realizing how much more his brother had seen from the world in comparison to him, sheltered in the Hanamura Castle like a precious tool. And he felt a stab of envy. Closely followed by a wave of guilt because no matter what wonders Genji had the opportunity to see, he suffered through every single one of them. 

“By the time I got to the mountains of Tibet I was in a rough shape. The weather did not help matters and when an unexpected snow storm hit, well, you can imagine. 

That was how Zenyatta found me. Half frozen and spitting mad at the whole world.” Genji chuckled. “So, of course, he took me in and nursed me back to health, while I threatened to him at every turn, untrusting and angry, he did not leave me where he found me.” 

Hanzo winced at the barely concealed implication.

“In the end, he took me under his wing, so to speak. And I became the first non-omnic student at the Shambali temple, with Zenyatta as my teacher. He made me understand. To see myself and the world without the veil of anger between us. Not a quick journey, mind you,” he turned to look at Hanzo over his shoulder, humor shining through his voice. “But worth it.” 

“I-” Hanzo started but his voice was raw and breaking. He coughed, embarrassed at the lack of control. “I am glad you found him, then.” He did not ask the questions that burned in his throat.  _ But where was I? Why wouldn’t  _ I _ help you? _ There was no point in it. It was in the past, no matter how it seemed to him at the moment. 

“Hanzo?” Genji’s voice was startled and Hanzo realized that even with his determination and attempts at control, his body betrayed him yet again. He angrily wiped the tears forming under his eyes, still somewhat clinging to his lower lashes. 

“Anija.” Genji’s soft tone almost undid him. 

He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to compose himself. It was futile. It was the hand on his shoulder that did it. 

“Your pain- I wish I could keep you from it. I wish I could-” He had to stop before he lost any remnants of control he had over his voice. 

“I know, anija.” And he sounded so assured. “I know.” 

Hanzo looked at him, but all he could see was the chrome faceplate and green lights. 

“You did not deserve to suffer like that.”

Genji squeezed his shoulder once more. 

“No, I didn’t. No one does.”

“They do!” Hanzo spat out, rage building in him with the speed and fury of a gasoline-fed fire. 

“No, Hanzo. They don’t.” And the kind, calm tone made Hanzo deflate. His mind whirling between memories of two faces. An open, grinning one with mock of green hair and impish look in his eyes and another, serene and calm, with a hidden smile in corner of her mouth. And of course, how unsurprising it is Genji would grow to resemble their mother in spirit, when the option of sharing their physical features had been taken from him. 

“Please,” he heard himself whisper. “Please take your mask off.” 

He barely registered the moment of stiffness, before Genji pulled away from him. And that nearly made Hanzo call him back and apologize for whatever slight he might have caused by the request. But then Genji raised his hands. 

Except instead of reaching for the sides where the clasps of the faceplate were, he reached for the back of his head. And Hanzo watched in amazement and a near reverie how instead of the mask the whole helmet detached. 

Genji carefully put it down next to him but Hanzo barely noticed, drinking in his brother’s face like it was the last time he would have the chance.

The scars marring most of the skin, the uneven eyebrows, the metal jaw. The deep brown eyes that used to look exactly like Hanzo’s but now had a greenish tinge to them where only the pure blackness of the pupil should be. But most importantly the vibrant, ridiculous, viciously green hair laying flat and mated against his scalp. 

There was a chocked of noise he wasn’t quite sure came from him or Genji, instead, he focused on the feel of the hair against the tip of his fingers as he raked through them, making them stick out above Genji’s left ear. 

“Otouto.” It came out whispery and choked but he could see Genji’s reaction plainly, now. The oh so familiar eyes glistening as he the grown man in front of him leaned into the touch. “ _ Otouto. _ ”

And if Hanzo spent the several next moments raking through the other's hair and scratching his scalp like when Genji was just a small boy, well, neither of them seemed to have a problem with it. 

 

\---

 

Much much later, when Hanzo was lying in the infirmary, exhausted both physically and emotionally, he still couldn’t quite stop the corners of his mouth tick up into a tiny smile at random intervals. 

And that was how the cowboy found him several moments later, smiling at the ceiling while the rejuvenation procedure was making at least his body feel a little less like a soggy newspaper.

“Glad to see ya in a good mood fer once,” he offered instead of a more traditional greeting. Hanzo rolled his head to the side to look at him. 

He was yet again wearing the training clothes combined with the red bandana and the too big hat. But this time he was also wearing cowboy boots. With spurs on them. 

Hanzo very nearly gaped at the absurd picture McCree made. 

Then he noticed the tray in his hands and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“Were you appointed as my official caretaker, Jesse McCree?” Hanzo asked, amused despite himself. He found it increasingly difficult to be harsh with the boy who was nothing but friendly to him. Not so much to the others from what Hanzo had the opportunity to witness. Most of them seemed somewhat crestfallen about it when McCree wasn’t looking. But that was hardly any of Hanzo’s business so he mostly elected to ignore it.

Now though, the boy was blushing and stuttering and that made a great distraction from otherwise boring ceiling observation. He chuckled.

“Now, no need fer that. I’m just bein’ thoughtful.” McCree said with a pout but made his way to Hanzo’s bed anyway. 

Hanzo made no move to sit up. He was quite comfortable like this. 

McCree stared at him for a moment before flicking his gaze from him to the tray and back few times, until Hanzo huffed in resignation. 

“I mean, I could feed ya if you’d prefer?” McCree offered and from his expression, Hanzo guessed he was only partly joking. 

He glared. “There is no need for such indignity. I am fully capable of feeding myself.” 

McCree just grinned at him, sitting next to the bed in a way so he wouldn’t block any of the speakers, and handing him the tray when Hanzo sat up with a barely contained groan. 

“I could have just go eat after the session,” he huffed but it was weak. His stomach has been loudly demanding sustenance for the past hour. He only chose to do the session first because it took nearly two hours and he couldn’t take bathroom breaks. 

“Yeaaah,” McCree drawled, “several new folks just got back from some mission or other, you would go hungry. They’re like locust. And Angela insisted you eat.” 

“New people?” Hanzo asked while cutting his meal into bite-sized pieces. He missed chopsticks. And Japanese cuisine. Western food was either far too greasy or terribly bland. This looked especially unappetizing, he suspected that the doctor made all the choices. But he needed the sustenance, they were right.

“Yup, no idea who they are.” 

Hanzo gave him a look and the cowboy laughed, clearly unashamed. Hanzo decided to change the topic and stop any other atrocious jokes that might have been about to come his way. 

“How are you spending your free time? I believe you are still not allowed on any missions?” 

McCree grumbled. “I’m not. Which I find unfair. I mean I am Blackwatch agent.”

“Are you?” 

“Of course, I am!” McCree replied, affronted. Then hesitated. “Or I was. They say there’s no Blackwatch no more.” 

Hanzo was aware this had something to do with McCree losing his father but the cowboy never offered more details and he deemed it unwise to pry. 

“But, hey, they let me train so there’s that at least.” 

A small pause before Hanzo managed to chew and swallow his current bite. “You do not strike me as someone particularly inclined to exercise.” 

“Hey!” 

Hanzo had to bite his cheek, the expression on McCree’s face an epitome of wounded pride. He even put his hand over his chest. It was nearly too much. Sometimes Hanzo wasn’t sure if the cowboy was a real person or just a caricature of one. 

“I’ll let ya know I exercise plenty! And I meant shootin’ practice.” 

That caught Hanzo’s attention. “You are a marksman?” 

McCree gave him a look as if he wasn’t sure if there was another quip on his expense about to come. But Hanzo was genuinely interested and let it show on his face. 

That was clearly enough for McCree to relax and show his own enthusiasm for the topic. 

“Yeah! The quickest draw in the West,” he grinned cheekily. Making an attempt at pushing up his hat but it just fell back down as always. 

“You prefer guns then?” 

“Well, yeah, what else?” 

Hanzo allowed a small smile to touch his lips. “I practice archery. Much more distinguished. Also swordplay. Guns are too loud for my type of combat.” 

“Archery? Like bow and arrow? Isn’t that a bit… uh, ineffective?” McCree finished carefully when faced with Hanzo’s raised eyebrow. 

“Not when you never miss your target,” Hanzo grinned wolfishly. 

McCree stared at him and the swallowed. “Well, damn, darlin’. I’m gonna need ta see to believe.” 

Hanzo blinked, startled at the sudden pet name. But elected to ignore it. “Is that a challenge, cowboy?” 

McCree’s smile was broad and cocky. “Whaddaya know, I think it is.” 

“Then I think I could agree to teach you a thing or two.” Hanzo gave as good as he got. The boy looked delighted. 

Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by the infirmary door opening and Genji stepping in, holding a small bundle of black cloth. 

McCree’s face fell into something more neutral and Hanzo for a second felt a pang of loss. It felt nice to be exchanging jibes with someone just because. 

In a somber mood now, he nodded at his brother. “Genji.” 

He could swear Genji winced behind his mask. “Evening, aniki, am I interrupting something?” 

Hanzo almost wished to say yes but that would be foolish. But before he could reply, McCree beat him to it. 

“Nah. Just brought Hanzo some food. I can leave ya alone.” 

Genji raised a hand in an aborting gesture. 

“There is no need. Please stay, Jesse. I’m afraid I have been so preoccupied with Hanzo’s condition I failed to make some time for you. How are you doing?” 

“Uuuh,” was the only thing coming out form McCree’s mouth, his eyes wide as Genji grabbed one of the free plastic chairs by the wall and put it next to Jesse out of the way the speakers. 

McCree was clearly taken aback by Genji’s friendly demeanor and Hanzo had to agree with him. It felt strange to watch Genji be so friendly with someone who was virtually a stranger. 

He watched as McCree swept his gaze over Genji’s body, his brow creasing. A swell of protectiveness rose in Hanzo’s chest at that. 

“At the risk of soundin’ rude, but aren’tcha by any chance that cyborg dude from the photo?” McCree asked a tad hesitantly. 

Genji inquisitively leaned his head to the side. “What photo are you referring to?” 

“Um, well, we were a bit older. Or younger, I guess. Ya had this tubes sticking from yer head?”

“Ah,” Genji made an understanding noise. “Then yes, that would be me. You have a photo of us?” 

McCree’s cheeks darkened and he raised his hand to rub at the back of his head but only managed to knock his hat off. 

“Well, I mean, I found some, yeah. Have one with him, too,” he pointed a thumb to Hanzo. 

Genji laughed. It was a nice type of laugh. “So you did keep it. I was the one who took that picture.” 

Hanzo thought back to the balcony where McCree showed the picture to him. That certainly explained some things. His glare for one. 

“Oh. Thanks?” McCree sounded unsure. “Though I hafta say ya look different now. Less edgy.” 

Genji’s laugh changed into something a bit more subdued. “Yes, I prefer this look. Red and black just weren’t my colors.” 

“Gotcha. So, are we friends or something, too?” The cowboy still acted a bit fidgety, the blush not going away as Hanzo had come to expect by now. A horrifying thought occurred to him and his next bite went down the wrong way making him choke.

“Are you implying that-”

“I’m not implyin’ anything!” McCree said quickly, his hands raising palms forward. 

Hanzo wheezed. “You are!” 

“I’m not! The picture’s just a tad suggestive, ‘s all!” 

Genji was shaking now. Hanzo for a moment thought Genji is angry but quickly realized his brother was, in fact, folding in half in silent laughter. 

“Genji!”

“I- I am sorry. It’s just too funny to watch you be offended on my behalf. And about this.” He raised his hand and took the mask off. His face creased in an amused grimace, making all the scars even more prominent. 

McCree stiffened a little bit but Genji chose to ignore it, so Hanzo did as well. It wasn’t like he hadn’t reacted similarly the first few times Genji took the faceplate off. And even now something in his chest tightened at the sight. 

Genji turned to face the cowboy with a grin. “No, we were never lovers.” Both McCree and Hanzo slightly slumped with relief at that. 

“Well, that’s a relief.” McCree let out, then whipping back up with wide eyes. “Not that ya are’t- I mean- It’s just-” 

Alright, now even Hanzo couldn’t keep a straight face. He joined his brother in his mirth. 

McCree groaned. “Yer both assholes,” he muttered, face still scarlet. “It would just be kinda awkward, ‘s all,” he finished lamely. 

“Because this isn’t,” Hanzo muttered between chuckles. McCree glared at him, before turning away with a resigned huff. 

“So, friends then?” 

Genji whipped at his eyes. “I have not considered you a friend for some time, now, Jesse McCree.” The cowboy visibly flinched at those words but Genji put a hand on his knee, continuing. “More like a family.” 

“Oh.” 

Hanzo watched the soft awe shine in the light brown eyes and understood completely. 

Just a few days ago they both learned that the world they knew and all the people were gone or mostly unrecognizable. Hanzo found his pillar of strength in Genji. And now it seemed so did McCree. In a way. He was no longer alone. 

A soft blue glow drew his eyes down to his lap and his heart swelled with pure relief as his gaze settled on two tiny, barely visible dragons lying nearly motionless in his lap. Only their whiskers moved as they were gazing up at him. 

He smiled. 

[“Welcome back.”]


	7. Chapter 7

It’s been a few weeks and Jesse was starting to get antsy. As much as the command kept both he and Hanzo in the loop, there was nothing much in the updates they were getting. Basically, every single one of them could be summed up on a post-it note ‘Still working on it’. 

And they were both still grounded. Hanzo seemed fine with it for the most time. But Jesse was pretty sure it would be different if the guy wasn’t magically incapacitated. Whatever was the music treatment doing for him apparently worked, though, because lately even Hanzo seemed a bit antsy. They even cut his treatments from two to one each day at noon. 

Still, he wasn’t exactly leaping out of the door to get into action, instead, he spent more time with Genji and doing some strength and flexibility training under Angela’s watchful eye. 

But Jesse was boooored. 

He got used to a rigorous training regiment and regular missions. This was making him feel like he was slacking. And slacking never ended up well under Reyes. 

Jesse emptied the cylinder and reloaded with another round. 

He registered the hiss of the door to the shooting range being opened but didn’t let it threw him off, aiming and firing six consecutive shots, shattering each of the targets. 

“Your balance is off,” a sage voice spoke from behind him. A whiff of ginger tea and soap reached his nose a sharp contrast against the smell of gunpowder.

Jesse put his gun down on the shelf in front of him and turned. 

“Morning, ma’am.”

Captain Amari was watching him with a thoughtful expression. “Good morning,” she replied before gesturing to the targets on the far wall. “You’ve been spending a lot of time here.”

“Can’t let myself get rusty,” he shrugged easily. 

She hummed, circling around to get a better look at the scoreboard Athena was projecting above the targets. The score was high but not high enough. 

“Not too bad.” She nodded. “But not as good as it could be,” she added with a smirk as if reading his mind. “Let me show you a thing or two.” 

Jesse might not be sure what this Captain Amari was to him but that didn’t mean he was an idiot. If  _ the _ Captain Amari offered to teach you something, you shut your mouth and opened your ears. He was pretty sure that was one of the official top five rules of the Overwatch. So he stepped aside with a brisk step and focused on every move she made. 

Maybe unsurprisingly, she did not teach by explaining. She took Jesse’s gun, after he nodded his consent, and replicated what he was doing. Except better. Stance slightly wider, one foot sliding a bit backward, body rotating by several degrees more to the right. Even the grip on the gun looked like Jesse’s before she adjusted it a little. 

The six shots rang and six targets, all a good distance from each other, crumpled. Above them, Athena marked down a perfect score. 60.

“Whoa.” 

Amari smiled, emptied the cylinder and reloaded, before putting it down and gesturing for Jesse to pick it up. 

He did and then tried to replicate what she just shoved him. 

Six shots, six targets. 52.84. He frowned. 

Amari clicked her tongue. “Better.” 

She gestured for him to reload and he did. When he took aim again, she spoke in a soft voice. “Trust your eyes,  _ habibi. _ Don’t overthink it.” 

He took a breath, eyes flicking between the targets, waiting for the first one to light up. 

Six shots. Six targets. 53.11. 

He huffed. Annoyed. 

She put a hand on his shoulder. “You are still thinking too much. If you can see it, you can hit it.” 

It sounded like a nonsense to him. He could see the targets fine this whole time. Didn’t help him much in getting any closer to sixty. 

“Again.” She gave him a pat and stepped back. So he did. 

Many times. 

His eyes burning as the sweat pearling pearl on his forehead was starting to trickle down. 

He could see the wall of targets. Smell the gunpowder. Feel his hands becoming slippery but he kept his grip steady and strong. 

Jesse focused, flicking his eyes from target to target in lightning quick succession, looking for one to lit up. 

_ If you can see it, you can hit it. _

The realization dawned on him as he flicked his gaze from one side of the range to the other. He wasn’t seeing all of it. 

He made himself stop tracing the possible targets and just looked. 

The target lit up and Jesse shot, moving before he could confirm the hit to another already lighting up. 

Six shots. Six hits. 60 points. 

He nearly dropped the gun. Putting it down and pressing the palm of his hands to his eyes. They were burning. And there was a headache forming behind his eyes. 

The next pat on his shoulder was distinctly congratulatory. 

“That is the way,” the captain said, her tone pleased. “You should take a break, now. There is no need for you to strain yourself too much. You will need to be fit for tomorrow.” 

He heard her turning and walking away. 

“Wait! What’s tomorrow?” He called after her, pulling his hands away and looking after her. She just waved at him cheerfully. 

“Your evaluation, of course. I convinced others to reconsider their stance.” She turned to him and winked. “So you better pass.”

 

\---

 

Still high on the fact he was given a chance to get back on the roster, combined with the mild pulsing headache from the training, Jesse decided to hit the showers. And after he headed to the mess. 

That was where Fareeha found him, stuffing his face with potato mash. Jesse noticed her entering but paid her little to no attention. Until she dropped into the chair across from him, putting her own tray down with barely a clank. 

He felt himself stiffen and it annoyed him to react so obviously. But experience indicated she was about to try and be all buddy-buddy with him. Not that he wasn’t appreciative, her intentions were probably good, but he had no desire to deal with people from his past more than he had to. They brought memories with them and he tried pretty hard not to dwell on those. 

He stuffed another huge spoonful of mash into his mouth to prevent any actual conversation. 

And failing.

“I get it, you know?” 

He didn’t look up at her, just continued to chew. 

“I sometimes miss him, too.”

Jesse clenched his fingers around the fork he was using to shovel the food in his mouth. His knuckles paled. Still, he did not answer. 

Fareeha sighed. “Jesse, please. I want to help.”

He swallowed, finally looking up and glaring at her. 

“Then ya need to shut up ‘bout ‘im.” 

His tone frosty enough to make her sit straighter. But not enough to leave him alone. 

“Jess, please. Did you even consider this might not be easily fixed? What if you stay like this? Are you going to shut us out forever?”

Jesse could feel the muscles in his face slacken, making his jaw drop slightly. 

What the hell she meant not fixed? 

“B-but the gorilla said-” 

“And he’s doing everything he can but it’s been nearly three weeks and he made little to no progress. I’m not trying to scare you, Jess, but you need to start thinking long term. And we are part of that long-term. All of us.” Her tone was imploring and something in her face made Jesse’s stomach knot, maybe the way her eyebrows scrunched and her eyes widened. It brought a memory of much younger Fareeha begging him to let her try his gun. 

She was clearly invested in this. In him. It made him feel a bit like a dirtbag for keeping her at arm’s length. 

On the other hand, he had his reasons and they were damn good reasons. He managed to keep it together this long but only barely and mostly because spending time with Hanzo made for a good distraction. 

But if she was right, and he really  _ really  _ didn’t want to think about the possibility she could be, he suspected that particular distraction won’t be enough. Would he be able to rebuild a life he knew he already lived once? There was a whole history to him he didn’t recall and he had no idea how he should even begin to deal with it. With his luck, there could be several vendettas in the making against him. Would someone finally tell him more about who he was? Did they even know? 

He poked at the mash, no longer feeling hungry. 

“This is fucked up.” 

A small chuckle from across him. “Yeah.”

He contemplated not asking but he was weak and he wished to know. “Why do you care so much?”

She was quiet long enough for him to gaze up at her, which was what she was waiting for as she smiled at him the moment he did. “You are as close to a brother as I could have, Jess. Of course, I care, I love you.”

He didn’t choke only because there was nothing to choke on. Didn’t stop his heart from trying to squeeze itself out through his trachea, though. It hurt. 

Christ on a cracker, way to drop an emotionally heavy bomb out of the blue. Damn.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He croaked. 

She was laughing at him now, not even trying to hide it. “Remember it,  _ ghabi _ .” She reached across the table, putting her hand over his, and he hadn’t had the presence of mind to move it away. “I don’t know if they manage to figure it out or not, for your sake I hope they will. But if not, we got your back, okay? You just have to let us.”

Jesse had an overwhelming urge to tell her no and get as far away as possible but the look in her eyes reminded him of another dark gaze determined to help him no matter if he wanted to be helped or not. And something in Jesse crumbled. 

“‘S not like you would let me stop ya.”

Fareeha grinned. “Now you are getting it.”

 

\---

 

Hanzo was in the common room, persuaded by Genji to socialize more because “it will be good for you, anija, you can’t stay a hermit forever”. So far it wasn’t too bad, but that was mostly thanks to the fact Genji got distracted by Lucio and the young Korean who challenged him in Mario Kart. Some things simply did not change. Ever. 

He did not mind being left sitting on the side, watching as Genji systematically destroyed the DJ and growled at the girl who dared to keep up with him. 

In its own way, Hanzo found it relaxing. Always had. Genji let himself be easily consumed in any and all video games and it more often than not made him let his guard down. 

So now he suddenly looked more like the youthful teenager than the nearly forty years old man with an aura of serenity he gained in the years Hanzo could not recall. That was just another thing that made Hanzo relax. It was familiar in a such a basic way breathing or training was to him. 

Because of that, it was barely surprising that he startled when a sudden weight dropped on the sofa next to him. 

He turned to glare but it felt flat as the culprit was leaning into the cushions with his hat sliding over his eyes. 

“McCree,” he growled instead to make his irritation known. 

“Hey, darlin’,” was the mumbled answer. It did not improve Hanzo’s mood. 

“Do  _ not _ call me that.” 

And how aggravating that neither his words nor tone had any impact. When did that happen? Not that long ago even the slightest glare caused McCree blabber apologies. Now, his words were clearly just a phrase to be brushed off like autumn leaves. 

“Sorry, Han.” 

“Do not call me that either.” 

McCree tipped his hat up with an index finger, looking from under it curiously. “Yer bein’ awfully prissy tonight. Something ticked you off?” 

Hanzo seriously considered kicking him off the sofa, now. Especially as he could see Genji turning to them. 

“You dropping on me like a sack of rice!”

McCree raised his eyebrows, then looked down at the cushions where there was still a few centimeters of space between them. 

“I’m not sittin’ on ya. I’m not even touchin’ ya,” the cowboy drawled. Then, to Hanzo’s horror, wiggled, making the gap between them smaller by half. 

Hanzo hissed. “Stop it!” 

McCree grinned. “Still not touchin’ ya.” He sprawled his arms over the top of the sofa, fingers of his left hand suddenly right there, just shy of a touch away from Hanzo’s face. 

“McCree,” he warned, a note of growl in his voice. 

“Yes, Hanzo?” 

Hanzo wished to smack the idiotic smirk of that stupid face. McCree’s fingers moved just a touch and Hanzo scooted to the side, nearly sitting on the armrest, now. 

“Aw, now yer just bein’ rude,” McCree pouted.  _ Pouted _ . “‘S not like ‘am gonna cuddle with you against your will.” 

Genji burst out laughing just as Hanzo felt his cheeks flame up in crimson. 

For a moment he couldn’t decide at whom he should be more outraged but in the end, it was easier to turn to yell at his brother than to look at the cowboy. “Genji!”

“I,” Genji paused to swallow his laughter enough to talk, “I’m sorry, aniki. But your face. It almost like the first time McCree aggressively flirted at you, except worse.” There were several more chuckles from other directions around the room. 

Hanzo’s face and even his ears felt warm and he despised lacking any sort of control over his own responses. He frowned, avoiding his brother’s gaze, now too. He could feel other people looking at him and he hated it. And that made him even angrier at himself because he should know how to handle the attention. He was trained to command and always appear in control. Was he really that weak that even few weeks without his training turned his abilities into nothing? It made him feel like his life was some kind of scam. 

“Hey,” a soft voice next to him pulled him out of his head, “‘m sorry if I’ve made ya uncomfortable. I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

Hanzo looked at the cowboy through his bangs (like a coward) and he could see the boy had his sincere face on. His eyes regretful. 

Hanzo huffed, sliding from the armrest with as much dignity as he could muster, before shaking his head. 

He hated he had to say something now, he wished to leave but that would be even more disgraceful. He fumbled for the right words for a moment. “I do not deal well with-”

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” The boy interrupted Hanzo. “Ya don’t hafta explain yerself, I can keep ma distance. Promise.” McCree grinned. 

Hanzo scoffed but he let his lips twist into a sort of smile. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” The cowboy mimed a shot through his heart. And the tension in the room Hanzo didn’t quite notice before, dissipated. 

He almost managed to relax when a warmth flooded his left arm and a soft blue glow appeared, making the cowboy suck in a startled breath. 

This time the dragons appeared to be less hazy on the edges, their eyes shining and present as they made their way up his arm and over his shoulders. Slithering and weaving around him before making their way over the small gap and into Jesse’s lap. 

He could feel their curiosity and desire for something but it was far from their usual clear communication and Hanzo couldn’t quite pinpoint what it is they desired. 

But he was too fascinated by watching them nestle on McCree’s legs to try and decipher it. 

“Oh, oh!” McCree’s voice raised in panic, but Hanzo put his hand on his shoulder to prevent him from moving or, gods forbid, standing up. Disregarding his previous reservations about touching. 

“They won’t hurt you.” 

“Ya sure?” Mccree’s voice was higher than normal and Hanzo couldn’t stop the smirk. 

“You would know if they meant you any harm.” 

McCree glanced at him. “Yer not so good at calming people, pardner.” 

“What my brother meant is that no one can touch the dragons without suffering unless the dragons themselves allow it. You should feel honored, McCree. I believe you are one of the very few people in the world who can do that when it comes to these particular dragons. I believe no one else in this room with maybe the exception of me, and of course Hanzo, could withstand their touch.” He turned to Hanzo, and even through his mask, Hanzo could feel the piercing gaze. “Why do you think that is, brother?”

Hanzo did not know. In fact, he was still a little stunned that they were, in fact, interacting with the cowboy as if it was perfectly normal for them. That should not be happening. 

“Couldn’t that be because they did the thing for both he and Hanzo? You know, the anchoring in this time thing?” D.Va asked, popping her gum as she did, an expression that probably should have been conveying boredom shoving curious interest instead. 

Then her words sank in and Hanzo felt his eyebrows rise, looking from the dragons to Jesse’s face and back. Huh. That actually made sense. 

“That is possible,” he said aloud. He reached his hand to the dragons and one of them, Udon, nuzzled into it when he got close enough for him not to have to raise from McCree’s lap. Soba blinked at them lazily before deciding it wasn’t for him and crawled half up McCree’s chest, where he lied down with a yawn. 

“Um,” was all McCree said. They were observed by everyone for a few more moments before D.Va, probably bored by them again, asked the room at large. 

“Movie, anyone?”


	8. Chapter 8

It became a familiar sight to see the dragons lounge around Hanzo and often Jesse himself. He couldn’t really say how he felt about it, though. Mostly it was weird. 

Not that he disliked it or anything but still. Weird. 

They appeared more often and for longer now that Hanzo became less of an exhausted shadow. Angela even cleared him for some light exercise and Jesse could see how much Hanzo appreciated that. Clearly unused to living without activity.

And that was how they happened to meet at the firing range both grinning and ready to prove their superiority. Jesse was still rather skeptical towards Hanzo’s weapon of choice, because really? A bow? In this day and age? Yeah, he’s going to beat Hanzo no problem. 

Thought the Japanese clearly thought otherwise judging from his smirk of supreme superiority. Jesse couldn’t wait to wipe it off. 

 

Jesse couldn’t believe he was so soundly beaten. He hadn’t felt this humiliated since the first time Gabe beat him with only three moves and with his dominant hand behind his back. 

“Not bad. I believe I’ve never seen anyone in the Clan handle a gun so well.” Hanzo said as he returned from gathering his arrows, face smug but his words sincere. Jesse would probably prefer him gloating because then he could at least justify being mad at him. 

“Still lost to ya,” Jesse replied and managed to keep most of the wounded pride from his tone. Most of it. 

Hanzo chuckled but still not mean. “If it’s any consolation, I was trained in the art of archery since I was old enough to draw a bow.” 

McCree huffed but it did make him feel slightly better. He hadn’t really had anyone to teach him to shoot until after he joined Overwatch. He didn’t really count the few guys in Deadlock who were more boasting than teaching. But he at least understood from watching them what not to do. So they did teach him something, if unintentionally. Most of his abilities he honed by himself, though.  

“And if we were to have competition with guns you would have most certainly beaten me. I’m moderately good at handling all types of weaponry but nowhere near your proficiency.” 

Jesse squinted. “Are ya tryin’ to butter me up?” 

Hanzo blinked at him. “Butter you?” He asked, perplexed. “What for?” 

“Not butter me,” Jesse laughed. “Butter me up, it means yer flatterin’ me.” 

Hanzo scoffed and turned to put the retrieved arrows into his quiver. “I am most certainly not flattering you. I am merely stating facts. I thought it might help you stop feeling sorry for yourself after being beaten so soundly.” 

Jesse winced. Ouch. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an ass, got it. Sorry. Guess I deserved that one.” 

Hanzo turned to peak at him over his shoulder a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, making Jesse’s lungs squeeze in a weird an unexpected way. He coughed to ease up the tightness, busying himself with his own weapon, cleaning the chambers and checking it over so he could focus his eyes on something that wasn’t Hanzo moving around in the traditional black clothes Genji had given him back when Jesse first met him in the infirmary. He cut quite a figure in them. 

There were some shuffling sounds as Hanzo dealt with his own gear and for a few minutes, neither of them said anything. 

Jesse was too preoccupied with his own thoughts, to fill the silence with his usual chatter because his cheeks were still a bit warm and his mind tried to steer back to that little smile half hidden behind the long black hair and woah, his mind really shouldn’t wander in that direction. Here there be dragons. Literally. 

Jesse knew better than to reach so high. Hanzo was so far out of his league he might as well be on a different planet. With his upbringing and class and frickin’ magical dragons. Also, there was the whole situation of them not actually being  _ them _ and whatever his lizard brain was trying to accomplish here was a really  _ really _ bad idea. 

Hanzo also never even hinted at considering Jesse like that. Pff, if anything he hinted at the direct opposite, pulling away when Jesse got too close and meeting his flirtatious jokes with a wall of concrete covered in ice with some barbed wire on top. 

He was so lost in his musings he flinched when a hand touched his shoulder, making Hanzo startle at the unexpected reaction. 

“Ah, sorry, pardner. Wasn’t paying attention.” Jesse murmured with a contrite slump of his shoulders. Hanzo recovered instantly, his face inquisitive for a short second before smoothing out as he took a step back to a polite distance, gesturing to where his now neatly aligned bow and quiver lay. 

“Would you like to try?” 

And for a moment or two, Jesse couldn’t figure out what was he asking before the realization dawned and his eyes widened. 

“Ya mean with that?” He pointed to Hanzo’s weapon, awed. 

Hanzo’s expression didn’t change but his eyes flew to the side before returning to Jesse and narrowing. “Under my supervision, of course.” The stern tone did nothing to quelch Jesse’s sudden excitement and there was no way it didn’t show on his face. Or so he thought from the way Hanzo’s lips twitched in amusement. 

“Hell yeah!” 

 

He regretted it almost instantly. Not so much because Hanzo was a slavedriver who demanded absolute perfection in everything and from the very start. But because Hanzo's way of teaching was hands on. In the most literal sense of the word. 

His hands were suddenly everywhere. 

Sliding over Jesse’s arms. His shoulders. Over his spine. On his hips. Correcting every imperfection in his stance, his hold, even the way he gripped the bow and arrow. 

The warm breath on his shoulder and neck as Hanzo explained in a no-nonsense tone what is Jesse doing wrong. He could smell the same laundry detergent that was used on his own clothes, but the scent seemed somehow dissimilar. And then there was the shampoo that was clearly something completely different from what Jesse was using, stronger, smoother and very pleasant. Jesse guessed expensive. Or at least not the cheapest as his generic one was. 

Overall, twenty minutes in Jesse was sure this was a cruel punishment for some slight he unwittingly committed against the universe because the timing was just too precise. There was no other reason Hanzo should be suddenly willing to touch him this much just as Jesse himself discovered he really _ wanted  _ Hanzo to touch him. In many  _ many _ different ways and positions. 

And he really needed to start thinking about something, _ anything _ else right the fuck now. 

Hanzo took a step back and circled around him with an assessing gaze. 

“You are too stiff. You need to relax or you will never hit anything.” 

Jesse gritted his teeth before making himself breathe out and forcibly relax his muscles. It helped only marginally. Hanzo scowled. 

“Not to be rude, Hanzo, but it’s been nearly forty minutes and ya didn’t even let me draw the damn bow yet. Can’t blame a man for being a bit tense.” 

Hanzo scoffed but then sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t push the same expectations on you as my teachers had at me. Alright. If you feel you are ready, try to hit the target right in front of you.” 

Helpfully, Athena made the target glow. It was the easiest possible shot and with his own weapon, Jesse would be offended. Scratch that, even with this strange weapon he was kind of offended. But Hanzo probably wouldn’t take kindly to Jesse disobeying his instructions. So he did as Hanzo told him, making sure his posture was as close to what Hanzo showed him as he could manage and then finally, finally he raised the bow and drew the string back. 

Or he tried. 

And then two more times before cursing and looking down at it. “What in the Sam Hill?” 

He looked up at Hanzo who had a hand in front of his mouth, absolutely failing at covering his grin. 

“What the hell, Hanzo?” 

Hanzo visibly composed himself but his lips were still twitching as he spoke. “I’m sorry, McCree. I should have warned you. Storm bow demands a great strength of arm. It is not the easiest of bows to wield.” 

McCree felt his cheeks burn. Was he just beaten by a piece of wood? Or whatever this damned bow was made of? He set his shoulders, determinedly lifting the bow up again, straining to draw it as he’d seen Hanzo do with not so long ago with ease and grace. 

“McCree, you do not have to-“

Jesse huffed. “Save it. I’m gonna shoot from this thing if it’s the last thing I do.” 

Hanzo covered his mouth again but his eyes were sparkling. Even peripherally Jesse could see that much. 

It took much longer than he would hope for and by the end, his forehead was pearling with sweat and his shoulders and arms were screaming but he eventually managed a full draw and then let go.

The arrow flew for a while before his trajectory sagged and it embedded itself into the wall a good foot below the intended target. 

The ‘fuck’ Jesse let out was heartfelt partly for that and partly because his whole forearm was on fire where the string had connected with it. 

“Ya make it look so easy,” he grumbled as he thrust the bow at Hanzo, his spirit bruised enough for one day.

“Years of practice,” Hanzo replied, taking the bow from him. “This was a good attempt.” 

Jesse snorted but gave Hanzo a grateful smile nonetheless because he knew from experience Hanzo did not hand out any sort of compliments unless he meant them. Even if this one was probably mostly born out of pitty. He’ll still count it. 

“Damn this smarts,” he muttered, poking at his forearm with a grimace. Hanzo put the bow down and stepped back to take Jesse’s forearm between his strong, shapely fingers. Jesse swallowed at the skin on skin contact. 

Hanzo was frowning. “I am sorry. I should have thought about this. It’s been a long time since I stopped noticing it myself. A cold compress should help.” He said and raised his head to look at Jesse, who realized he was staring at Hanzo from a fairly close distance the whole time and flushed. 

That was the moment Athena decided to interrupt them. 

“Agent McCree, your presence is required in the conference room 6.” Hanzo let his arm go and took a step back. 

Jesse tilted his head a little, pinpointing one of the cameras and looking at it - something Reyes always mocked him for but it just felt more polite. “Sure thing, Athena. Any idea why?” He was proud to say his voice did not waver once. 

“I have not been permitted to disclose the topic of the conversation. But I believe it will be pleasing for you, agent.” 

Jesse arched his eyebrows but then shrugged. “Sure. Thanks, doll. Tell them I’m on my way, will ya?” Turning to Hanzo he smiled apologetically. “Sorry to cut it short. But better not keep them waitin’.”

Hanzo gave him a curt nod, understanding perfectly because of course, he did. Hanzo was used to a rigid chain of command probably even more than Jesse. 

Jesse still hesitated for a second longer. “See ya later?” 

Corner of Hanzo’s mouth ticked up in the minuscule smile Jesse became so quickly fond of. “Of course.” 

 

\---

 

Jesse was floating on cloud nine. Finally, he had been approved for missions again and he spent the past four days in eager anticipation. 

The Orca was ready for departure and the team was checking their gear for the last time before liftoff. Jesse joyfully took in the smell of metal polish and burnt coffee from the old and overused coffee maker. Even if nothing else felt the same, this smell hadn’t changed a bit. It calmed whatever small jitters Jesse felt. 

Reinhardt clapped him on the back with a broad grin just as Jesse was putting his spare ammo back into the pouch on his belt and he nearly dropped it, fumbling for a moment and then glaring up at the crusader. 

“It’s good to have you by my said again, young one!” 

Jesse narrowed his eyes at him. The old man took to calling him that and refused to stop even when Jesse growled at him for it. It seemed to bring an unreasonable amount of glee to the German. 

“Try not to cripple me before the mission even starts, gramps,” Jesse retorted with a grimace, making Reinhardt laugh. 

Said mission was a rather small thing, a rebel group of omnics planning a hit on a factory of independent workers in a southern part of West Midlands, England and they were to intercept them. Clean cut plan with the team of six. Easy mission Jesse would normally felt almost insulted by, but after being benched for so long he would gratefully take even a grocery run.

Fareeha was their pilot for this mission, along with D.Va, Lucio, and Zenyatta, who wished to join them in hopes of reaching out to the omnic group and diverting them from their ‘path of violence and discourse’. 

“Alright people, if you would be all so kind and buckle down we could get on our way,” Fareeha’s voice sounded from all around them. 

They all did as she asked and in a less than three minutes Jesse could hear and feel the engines roar to life and the Orca rose. He wanted to laugh in exhilaration but managed to just beam at everything and nothing as the ship vibrated under his feet. 

But as the transporter was gaining more and more altitude, Jesse’s smile slipped and was replaced by a pained grimace instead as his chest constricted and his throat closed off. 

Suddenly there was no hum of engines or vibrations of the floor, instead, there was a roar of a hurricane in his ears. In his brain. In his every cell. 

Jesse let out a half chocked scream and tipped forward, not falling out of his seat only because he was buckled in. But he barely noticed. Engulfed in a swirling sensation of a blue storm of lightning that overwhelmed all his senses. He could smell the ozone, taste petrichor on the tip of his tongue, feel the gales tearing at him, hear the scream of the ocean caught in the storm, and see the pure core of lightning bolts. 

It was too much. Far too much and it made him fall head first into a blackness of unconsciousness. But before he lost the last of his awareness he was sure he could see two giant blue dragons snapping after him. 


	9. Chapter 9

Hanzo woke up with a pounding headache, smell of antiseptic assaulting his nose, and no recollection of falling asleep. 

Then he opened his eyes and realized he wasn’t in his room but in the infirmary. 

But why? He could not recall a single reason why he should be in here, or why his head should feel like it had been split in two. 

He turned to look around and sucked in a shocked breath when he noticed another bed pushed right next to his, with no gap between the frames at all. And in it sleeping, Jesse McCree. 

His first instinct was to pull away but there was a light tug at his hand and his eyes fell down to their hands, pushed together and loosely bound by a piece of gauze. 

What. 

Hanzo’s sleep-addled brain couldn’t come up with a single possible explanation for something like this. It simply did not make any sense. 

He looked back up and noticed that Jesse was ashen and his breathing did not sound as easy as one would expect from a sleeping person. Something was wrong. 

“Ah, you are awake. Good.” The voice of doctor Ziegler made Hanzo turn to his right, where said doctor was just exiting her office. 

“What happened?” 

The doctor made her way to the machines monitoring the both of them and made several notes on her tablet while replying to Hanzo’s inquiry. 

“We cannot be absolutely sure but our hypothesis is that due to the physical separation between the two of you, whatever your dragons are doing to keep you like this was strained too much and they were unable to uphold it. You both lost consciousness but Jesse took the brunt of it because the dragons are anchored to you and not to him. He went into shock before the Orca managed to turn back and return to us but he is stabilized now. We hope you could give us more insight?” Her tone and expression were hopeful and it made Hanzo turn his eyes away as he shook his head. 

“I do not know what happened. I don’t recall anything.”

He looked at the still form of the cowboy and then to his left arm where his tattoo looked just as it always had. Except the usual feeling of other consciousness was muted to an almost unnoticeable buzz. The dragons were completely exhausted and utterly silent. 

The doctor sighed but did not sound surprised by Hanzo’s answer. 

“Well, it can’t be helped. Lucio had to leave for the mission again but we are familiar enough with the Rejuvenation system so we will be able to set it up here around you both. Hopefully, that will help some. Other than that I’ll keep monitoring you for the time being and you will be receiving small doses of biotics in regular intervals.” She sounded professional but Hanzo could detect an undertone of frustration. He understood by now that this whole situation was hard on the doctor because his dragons defied her scientifical views of the world. She could not treat something that could, in all fairness, be called magic. Hanzo did not blame her for her occasional terseness. 

Hanzo decided to risk one simple question. “Do you know where my brother is?” 

The doctor gave a sigh but then her expression softened. “I would hope he’s in bed as it’s close to four in the morning but I think that is overly optimistic of me. Don’t worry, I’ve promised to contact him the moment you wake up so he’ll probably show up sooner rather than later.” With that, she made two more additions to her notes and left Hanzo be. 

For a moment he was unsure what to think, too overwhelmed by what she had told him. Was this truly a side effect of the actions of his dragons? 

That would mean they’ve been trapped in a small bubble of false safety all this time, would it not? He turned to look more closely at the body next to his. 

McCree was looking terrible. His skin gray and taut, and face radiating tension. Was he in pain even now?

Hanzo without much thought pressed the back of his left hand against Jesse’s as if the pressure could help alleviate some of the possible discomfort. 

It changed nothing. Jesse’s breathing remained labored and face contorted. And Hanzo couldn’t make himself take his eyes off of him. 

That was how Genji found him not much later. 

[“Brother,”] he sighed. [“You  _ are _ awake. That’s a relief. How are you feeling?”]

Hanzo waited until Genji sat down next to his bed before answering. [“It is not so bad. A headache and some tiredness. I worry more for McCree.”]

If Genji was surprised at his openness he didn’t comment on it. 

[“He will pull through. Angela would be less annoyed and more worried if he was still in danger.”]

That made Hanzo curl in on himself. 

[“Was he in such danger?”] 

Instead of answering Genji put a hand on his knee and squeezed. [“He will be fine, brother. And we know now there are limitations to whatever the dragons are doing. We won’t risk anything like this again. It was decided,”] Genji added in sterner tone when Hanzo opened his mouth in protest. They were  _ not  _ useless.

[“There is no need for you to risk yourselves needlessly, Hanzo. If our places were reversed, wouldn’t you say the same to me?”]

Hanzo imagined the presented scenario and barely stopped a shudder. He would do much worse to keep Genji from any unnecessary risk. He couldn’t fool himself about that. 

From the tilt of his head, Genji knew he had won the argument before it could even fully brake out. 

[“I suspect you are not willing to go back to sleep right away, so would you like for me to entertain you for a while?”] He reached into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie of an appalling shade of radioactive green he was wearing and pulled out a deck of card. Hanzo groaned. 

[“What is it with you people and cards?”] He asked as he gestured for Genji to proceed. 

Cards were apparently a go-to distraction for a big portion of the agents. Hanzo often came across two or more agents playing. And quite a bit of them tried to pull him into a game when he was bedridden or did not scurry away in time. 

[“It’s the best way to occupy ourselves when we can do nothing but wait. It’s a matter of self-preservation and keeping one sane in our line of work.”] Genji said cheerfully, mixing the cards. [“Now, how do you feel about Go fish?”]

 

\---

 

“Yer tellin’ me, we are stuck like this?!” 

Jesse could see Hanzo flinch next to him at the volume but wasn’t in a mood to give a damn. 

What the hell. 

WHAT. THE. HELL. Not just that his body went through some weird shit against his will but now he couldn’t even go where he wanted or do anything remotely useful? 

He was not okay with that. 

And the closed off expression on Hanzo’s face was not helping things. 

When Jesse woke up the man next to him looked happy about it. But as they explained what had happened to Jesse, he grew colder and colder. Was he angry at Jesse?

Because that wouldn’t be fucking fair. It’s not like he wanted to be permanently bound to Hanzo, no matter how pretty the guy was. Jesse liked to be his own man, as much as he could while being forced to work for Overwatch. 

This? This was not cool. 

He tried to pull his hand away from Hanzo’s but the gauze binding them together wouldn’t let him. And what was that for anyway? 

Were they to be literally bound together now, too? Was he not even allowed to take a piss in private anymore? 

“Take it off,” he growled, tugging at the offending piece of cloth again. 

“Jesse, please, calm down. It’s only temporary.” Anglea’s tone was imploring but it only irked him more. What does she know anyway? They are all clueless with no idea how to fix them. What use is it to ‘be positive’ about it? Fareeha was right. 

“Oh, do ya know how to fix us yet? Coz it sure doesn’t look like it to me. How ‘bout we face the fucking reality. We are not gonna get fixed and shit is only gettin’ worse! It’s bad enough I can’t remember half of ma life but now I can’t even live it on my own like I want. So how ‘bout you stuff it, Angela? How ‘bout that?”

The ringing silence in the room was like a slap. But a slap that only made him angrier. 

Except then he looked at the doctor’s face and suddenly the anger was gone and instead there was a shitton of guilt. 

Angela looked stricken. Blue eyes wide, face even paler than her usual complexion was, and her lips tightly pressed together. But instead of breaking down as he expected her to, she squared her shoulders and scowled at him. 

“We are doing everything we can and we will continue to do so until we figure out how to fix you both. Even if you decide to give up, Jesse McCree, we won’t.” She looked at her watch and then back at Jesse with an imperious expression. “It’s nearly time for your next round of biotics. If I find out you’ve tried to separate yourself from Hanzo again before I give a go ahead I  _ will _ tie you to the bed.” And without so much as a second glance, she turned on her heel and disappeared in her office. 

Jesse stared after her before groaning and hiding his face in his one free hand with a heartfelt ‘fuck’ on his lips. 

He was pulled from it by a slight movement on his right and peeked out his hiding just in time to see Hanzo abort the movement of his fingers that were reaching to touch Jesse’s right hand. Instead, Hanzo curled them into a loose fist and pulled their hands as far as the gauze would let him, lying down and turning his face away from Jesse. 

Oh damn. He’d gone and fucked up more than he thought.

 

\---

 

Things were strained between then now and Jesse hated it. It was even more obvious by how close they had to keep to each other. They were allowed some alone time, but most of the time they were encouraged to stay together as much as possible. Any physical contact would be just a bonus. 

Jesse thought they were going a bit overboard with it but didn’t voice any of it aloud. Once was enough he thought bitterly as Hanzo politely indicated he would like to go eat something. 

The worst thing was that Hanzo wasn’t mad at him. Oh no. He was being thoughtful, giving Jesse as much space as possible and being unobtrusive when they had to stay together. Jesse figured that one in the first half a day or so. Didn’t make it any easier, though.

Whatever they had going on before? Gone. Closed back behind the concrete door, covered in ice, with barbed wire on top. And Jesse could admit he missed it, okay? Spending time with Hanzo before was no chore. He was proud to say he made Hanzo open up to him. They even had a private joke or two from all the times they poked fun at each other or joined their forces against others. Mostly Genji. 

Well, he mucked it up, he should clean it too, he supposed. 

He followed Hanzo to the mess, filling his plate with what looked like not so accurate version of a risotto but he didn’t really care all that much. He grabbed some water to go with it and on a whim a cup of strawberry pudding and let Hanzo lead them to a table on the side. 

They sat across each other in silence, Hanzo fully focused on eating while Jesse couldn’t help but poke at his food more than eat it. He wasn’t that hungry, anyway. 

Once or twice he could feel Hanzo looking at him but the man never said a word. They got through almost all their meal before Jesse decided that enough is enough and put his fork down. 

“Ya know it’s not ‘cause of you, right?”

Hanzo looked up and arched his eyebrows at him. “What are you talking about?” 

And, yeah, Jesse called bullshit, but he guessed it was kinda deserved. He decided to ignore that feeble evasion attempt and just barreled on. 

“Okay, it is because of you but not because you are  _ you _ , alright? It’s that I don’t want to be bound to anyone.” That… didn’t sound any better. Ugh, he was failing at this explaining part so badly. 

Hanzo scoffed. “This may surprise you, McCree, but I do not enjoy being bound against my will any more than you do.”

Jesse slumped. “I know. I’m sorry fer bein’ such an ass ‘bout it. I’m-” He scrubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand. Honesty this sucked so hard. But he could do it.  _ Would _ do it. “I’m scared.” He admitted much quieter. 

A silence stretched between them until he couldn’t help himself and looked up, finding Hanzo already looking back. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, lips pursed in a thoughtful expression. Then his face softened and it was such a change from how he looked at Jesse these past few days it almost gave him a whiplash. 

“I understand. And I do not blame you. I often forget this situation must be even stranger for you than it is for me. After all, I grew up in the company of my dragons. The idea of magic is not so distant to me.”

“Ya can say that again,” Jesse mumbled but he could feel himself relax, even stretching his mouth into a smile. Even if it still wasn’t his usual one. Then his gaze fell on the pudding cup and he snorted, pushing it towards Hanzo, who looked at it with raised eyebrows. Jesse shrugged. “Not that much into strawberries. Not like you.”

Hanzo’s lips curled in a soft smile and he took the cup with a small bow and thanks. And if there was the tiniest dusting of pink on his cheeks, well, Jesse wasn’t about to mention it. He would just enjoy it. 


	10. Chapter 10

Something could be probably said for the fact that their first contact with Tracer was when most of the agents were out on different missions. She was clearly not out of bad luck just yet.

Only seven of them remained on the Watchpoint as Winston correctly pointed out amidst of all his growling after the transmission ended. Genji understood his aggravation. A phrase from a frying pan and into the fire offered itself.

  
_“Winston! Love, is it you?”_

_“Lena!” Winston was overjoyed to hear her voice, if tiny and in a bad quality, coming from his communicator._

_“Winston, it’s so good to hear you.” Lena’s voice audibly trembled and she sounded on a verge of tears. Genji ached for his friend._

_“Where are you, Lena? We will get you, don’t worry.”_

_“Rialto. But, Winston, watch out. I think they are back. Or maybe they hadn’t left in the first place.”_

_Talon._

_That was a bad news indeed. It would make the extraction risky but it really hadn’t changed anything. They would still do it. Some backup would be nice, though._

 

It was hardly surprising the situation spiraled out of control after that and they ended up here, in the hangar, with Winston quickly losing what was rest of his patience and Jesse and Hanzo arguing one over the other why they should go with them.

“Ya don’t have the people! We can fight!”

“We only need to stay in close proximity to each other, our abilities are in no way impaired. If anything it means we will have a constant cover.”

“Guarding the Watchpoint is an important task.” Winston all but growled at them, his patience rapidly waning. Genji understood. Winston had been living in constant worry over Lena for weeks and now when he finally could reach her, nothing seemed to be going the right way.

“Yeah, one that Symmetra, Athena and the small army of Torbjorn’s turrets can manage just fine! We’re goin’ with!”

Genji was keeping himself out of it until now, but Angela, the last member of the mission they were waiting for, was running to them clad in her Valkyrie suit. The time for arguments was up. He put a hand on Winston’s shoulder before the gorilla could lose whatever remnants of control were left and interjected.

“We need to hurry, Winston. Lena’s time is limited. Let them come with us if everything goes according to plan they won’t be at any risk, if not, we could find their help invaluable.”

Winston turned to him, scowling, but then huffed. “Fine. Everyone get on board, we are leaving.” He turned back to Hanzo and Jesse with a narrowed eyes. “You will stay in the back, is that understood?”

Jesse opened his mouth to protest but Hanzo swiftly clapped his palm over it. “Understood.” He nodded and pushed Jesse in front of him into the transporter.

Genji followed behind them and couldn’t help but chuckle despite the serious situation at Jesse’s smug grin and Hanzo’s disgusted face when he pulled his hand away from Jesse and wiped it on his black hakama. Despite everything he felt hope rising in his chest, with Lena back, they could finally find some solution for Hanzo and Jesse’s situation.

 

\---

 

It was bad. Jesse usually hadn’t been one for losing hope so soon into a battle but this one was going tits up from the very beginning.

 

They touched down relatively easily in an abandoned compound they used before for the mission that ended up with him and Hanzo on the younger side. It was risky but they were time-pressed. Winston was on comm with the woman who Jesse only recalled from the video of their mission and she wasn’t giving them any good news.

From what she discovered, they were separated from her by a rather big group of Talon agents operating in the area of several blocks about a mile and a half north from them.

They couldn’t exactly make their way around them through the city with all their weapons and the gorilla. So it was on Tracer to get to them.

And it almost looked like it could work, until it didn’t.

“I’m pinned down!” Tracer’s high voice came through all their comms, as Athena connected them all to Tracer’s disposable phone. “And I’m running low on ammo.”

Winston cursed.

“Genji, Mercy and I are en route. Tell us your exact position.” Then he turned to them, eyes a bit wild but still focused. “I need you two to create a distraction. Try to pull them south-east so we have a clear escape route but anything will do. We are vastly outnumbered.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse responded automatically and followed after Hanzo who immediately headed north-east instead of north-west where Tracer should be.

 

And that was how they ended up here. Bloody, panting, and cornered.

“At least the plan worked,” Jesse quipped as he emptied and reloaded Peacekeeper. He was pretty sure that most of the Talon forces included in this operation were on them now. He and Hanzo moved swiftly from place to place to make it seem like there more than two attackers but effectively trapped themselves that way without realizing. Neither of them was familiar with this area and it proved to be their undoing.

Jesse couldn’t speak for Hanzo but he was tired and with a pounding headache, hitting shot after shot. Seeing all and punishing even the slightest mistakes in the positioning of their enemies. But they learned fairly quickly not to do those mistakes.

And Hanzo. Well, Hanzo was mostly limited by Jesse. And didn’t that one sting. He saw the man train enough times to know Hanzo could get out of this pretty easily if he wasn’t bound to Jesse. But there’s no way Jesse would be able to scale a building even if he wasn’t in rough shape.

“Any ideas?” Jesse asked as Hanzo sent an arrow flying. There was a pained yell in an answer and Hanzo frowned, dissatisfied. No screams followed a killing blow.

“They are attempting to push is into the open space behind us. There is no safe way out of there.” _For you_ went unspoken but it hardly mattered. Hanzo wouldn’t leave him behind even if Jesse was tempted to suggest it. They had a leeway about a hundred meters before the distance would incapacitate them both. It could be enough for Hanzo to find a better position. Maybe. He looked over his shoulder.

Damn. There was nothing that could be of use behind them. Nothing with a cover or high enough for a sniper to make use of. Fucking useless this was.

Jesse growled under his breath turning back, hitting his comm as he did.

“McCree here. We managed to catch their eye but they had us cornered, not sure how long we can hold them at an impasse. How is the extraction going?”

There were several beats of silence, just enough to unnerve him, but then Genji’s mechanical voice answered.

“We have her. Winston and Mercy are helping her suit up. She’s injured but it’s not serious. We will be able to assist you momentarily.”

Jesse grinned, relief making his body nearly tingly. “We’ll do our best to hold them off, but hurry anyway.”

Genji made an affirmative sound and Jesse nudged Hanzo. “Ya heard, darlin’. We might get out of this alive.”

Hanzo acknowledged him with a huff and pulled out another arrow, his supply visibly thinning. It was then the universe had to prove him wrong as the window on their far left cracked under the impact and a black can of gas hit the floor before starting to smoke.

“Fuck!” Jesse yelled and bodily showed Hanzo out of the back door. Exactly where they didn’t want to end up. Hanzo growled at him as he picked himself from the ground but Jesse was kicking the door shut behind them, effectively trapping the tear gas in. And them out.

“That was stupid!”

Jesse knew that, thank you. But there was nothing else for them to do.

“The only other way out would put was into their line of fire.”

“We could have at least try to find another way!”

Jesse scoffed. “Not without any gas masks we couldn’t. Been there, done that. It sucked.” He survived their surroundings with a critical eye and yeah, he understood why was Hanzo so unhappy about this move. There was nowhere to find cover. The walls belonged to the metal halls and virtually useless for them, now. The only exits in sight were the one they just went through and one in the fence that led into a narrow alley next to the building that opened to the street now occupied by Talon agents. It was barred from their side and half hidden behind a heavy container but they could fit through.

Jesse sighed. “We are gonna have to try that one, aren’t we?”

“We will be trapped.”

“Yup.”

Hanzo groaned.

Jesse understood the sentiment. “We can’t stay stuck here, I’m pretty sure they do have gas masks. But hopefully, enough of them will go through there that we’ll have a chance to clear way through the street.”

Hanzo looked at him as if he was talking nonsense, which, yeah. It was a ridiculous plan but they had nothing better. He raised his hand to his ear. “McCree here. We are outa options here and will try to bust our way out through the street. Any chance for backup?”

Again, Genji was the one to answer. “We are closing in but need more time. Can you hold off for a bit longer?”

A loud crack from the building they were hiding in before told them that no, they could not.

“Negative. Sorry, Shimada, it’s now or not at all.”

With that, he darted to the second exit, wrenched the bar free and stepped through it sideways, still, the too big clothes he picked from the wardrobe of his older self got caught on the container, pulling at his wounds. He bit down a hiss and moved aside so Hanzo could follow him. They thrust the door shut but it would do nothing to hold up their pursuers. They plastered themselves back to the wall and crept through the alley to the light of the street in front of them.

Jesse was sweating and his heartbeat pounded in sync with his pulsing headache but he was focused. No way he was giving up now that they were so close to fixing stuff. Hanzo behind him was completely silent, like a shadow on his heels. It had a surprisingly soothing effect on Jesse’s nerves.

He stopped at the point where he could see into the street but still be covered by the walls. Luckily the streets of Rialto were mostly narrow one-ways. Even in what was practically an industrial district. It would make it more difficult for any snipers to find a good spot, so their main worry was agents on the ground level and those in the windows above. Luckily there weren’t that many windows here in general.

“It’s clear enough ahead so they have to be hiding. You still have one of those handy glowy arrows?”

Hanzo huffed an affirmation. “Switch with me and watch our backs,” Hanzo instructed in the same quiet whisper as Jesse.

He did. The back of the alley was far away now but he would still be able to see anyone entering it against the light.

Jesse barely finished the thought when the first silhouettes appeared but he reacted immediately. Three consecutive shots and three falling bodies were all that was needed for any chance of surprising the enemy agents to vanish. Jesse cursed under his breath. Hanzo hadn’t bothered, instead of firing the special arrow and revealing some of the agents waiting for them ahead.

Hanzo took two down immediately but for anything more they needed to leave the feeble cover of the alley.

More agents appeared behind them. More shots fired. More bodies hit the ground.

“We need to go now!”

Hanzo’s back hit his. “We cannot, they are coming towards us and there is no cover. We are pinned!”

Jesse quickly reloaded. Just in time as more agents appeared. Some of them took cover behind the big container and now had an advantage over Jesse and Hanzo.

Jesse pushed the man to the wall as a salve of shots rang, cursing as a bullet ripped through his upper arm and above his knee.

He raised Peacekeeper again, focusing, and taking aim.

His headache spiked, pressure behind his eyes almost unbearable. But for a second or two it almost felt like the time has slowed down and he would swear he could see his bullets burying themselves in the skulls of the Talon goons. Then it snapped back and his knees wobbled.

He reloaded on autopilot. His bullets were nearly all gone now. How was there no end to the enemies?

He could feel Hanzo move behind him, reaching for a new arrow. He heard the _twang_ of an arrow being let loose and the _tink tink tink_ of ricocheting shrapnel. The pained screams were a music to his ears because neither of them came from him or Hanzo.

“Last two arrows,” Hanzo hissed to him and Jesse chuckled humorlessly.

“Last six bullets.” He let his head fall back just enough to feel their hair touch, while still keeping his gaze on the entryway. “Must say, Han, this wasn’t how I imagined our first mission to go.”

A huff of what almost could pass as a laughter. “You imagined our possible missions?”

Jesse grinned. “Ya haven’t?”

Instead of an answer, there was a sound of more feet running and they both steeled themselves. Hanzo reached for another arrow, muttering: “I am unsure if they will respond but I will try to summon the dragons. If it works, run when I tell you to.”

“Ya got it.” Jesse’s answer was audibly slurred and it irked him. He was stronger than this, dammit. He blinked what he hoped was only sweat out of his eyes.

He could feel Hanzo take a deep breath before the man let out a shout. _“Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!”_

Suddenly the darkness of the alleyway was illuminated by a soft blue glow, swirling around them, surrounding them both. But he knew the attack itself failed even before a harsh Japanese curse reached his ears.

So it didn’t work. And now they were a perfect target for anyone with a half decent aim. Damn.

A sudden roar made Jesse’s legs buckle and he fell down to one knee as Hanzo flinched into him and made Jesse loose balance.

He had no idea what was happening and for a split second when a hand grabbed him he nearly attacked but then Hanzo was pulling him into the street and there was a green glow and more roaring and flicks of blue but a different blue than before.

And then a cheery voice with a distinctive English accent called out to them. “Don’t worry, loves, the cavalry is here!”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Hanzo was surprised how quickly the next several days passed. 

After the successful extraction of agent Lena Oxton aka Tracer, they all returned to the Watchpoint where doctor Ziegler showed them into their designated beds in the infirmary and proceeded to berate them as she healed all their wounds and scrapes. It was mostly bearable. 

Better when they learned Winston had finally been making some progress with the de-aging issue and was now tirelessly working on a prototype that would be able to simulate the exact situation that de-aged them in the first place. By reversing it they should theoretically be able to fix it. 

It was a lot of ifs and maybes but it was also much more than they had before, so Hanzo allowed himself to hope. 

McCree, on the other hand, was unapologetically ecstatic. Hanzo was aware the whole issue of missing memories and forced bond was hard on the cowboy but maybe even he didn’t quite understand how hard. The joy flowing from the young man was unbridled. 

Hanzo was, for the most part, stuck in the middle of the Rejuvenation setup. His failure to summon the dragons into battle was worrisome and by the consensus of all the involved parties, it was decided he needed to try and make himself and the dragons as strong as possible before they attempted to reverse their situation. Failure could very well kill them and it was more than possible they will only have one shot. Or so Winston indicated in between recounting pages long equations (which Hanzo found incredibly interesting) and half insane theories (about things Hanzo never even heard of). 

One of the things Hanzo needed to make sure of was that the dragons would stay put and not summon them at any cost so they would not waste any energy. 

Sadly, the dragons had a different idea and so it quickly became sort of a habit for Jesse to come in at random intervals, bringing them back to Hanzo. 

It was, therefore, no surprise when the door to Hanzo’s room opened and in walked McCree with a red serape over his shoulders that was weirdly bulging at the front. Hanzo only sighed and put away the book he was reading. 

Jesse gave him crooked, slightly apologetic grin. “Sorry fer interrupting, Hanzo.” He shook off the red cloth to reveal an armful of gloving blue coils. “Found these scoundrels hiddin’ in ma boots again.”

Hanzo glanced at the dragons contentedly dozing off in the cowboy's arms, only the slight flicks of their tails betraying they weren’t completely asleep. 

“They do love to crawl into dark, tight places for sleep. I apologize for the inconvenience. They should know better.” He reached for them and Jesse carefully deposited them on Hanzo’s lap. The dragons mewled in discontent but didn’t much protest beyond that. 

McCree waved his apologies off with a smile. 

“Nah, it’s no trouble, really. Just have to be careful the others won’t spot ‘em and tattle to Angie or Winston.” 

Hanzo inclined his head as much in agreement as in thanks. 

The dragons were now more alert and looking up at McCree with tense necks and twitching whiskers. Sobba went even as far as to let out a pleading sort of chirp. 

Hanzo’s lips twitched. “It seems they would like you to stay.” 

The cowboy looked a bit taken aback by Hanzo voicing the dragons’ wish but not wholly surprised by the wish itself. “They enjoy your company.”  _ Astoundingly so, _ Hanzo thought but didn’t say aloud. 

“Well, I don’t hafta be anywhere right now.” he scratched the back of his neck and then shrugged. “I can stay fer a bit if yer okay with it?”

“I do not mind, no,” Hanzo replied with a small smile because Jesse should know by now he didn’t dislike his company. 

“Alright then, scoot,” Jesse gestured with a grin and, accompanied by and happy chirping from the dragons, he deposited himself next to Hanzo. The dragons immediately scrambled to crawl from Hanzo’s lap to Jesse’s chest where they curled together on him, sagging like a pair of wet noodles, expression blissed out.

The cowboy scoffed. “Yer not cute, I know ya only like me coz I run hot.” 

“Yes, you are their personal heat rock. Congratulations. You’ve been chosen,” Hanzo deadpanned and he could feel Jesse next to him shake as he laughed, open-mouthed and full bodied. Hanzo liked that laugh, it made him feel warm. The dragons ignored them in favor of reveling in Jesse’s body heat, only slightly grumbling when the shaking lasted too long for their tastes. 

“Ya can go back to yer book, ya know? I don’t mind occupying myself for some time. Honestly, a nap doesn’t sound half bad either.”

Hanzo looked at him sideways. “Are you sure?”

“Pff yeah. If yer okay with it. I might drool on ya though,” Jesse grinned up at him. Hanzo glared.

“You would not dare.” 

Jesse only laughed more. 

 

\---

 

“Are you feeling well, anija?” Genji asked as they made their way to the laboratory, where the attempt to return them to their correctly aged bodies would take place. He found Hanzo outside meditating when he was sent by Angela to fetch him and ever since then Hanzo hadn’t said more than six words in total. 

“As well as can be expected.” Was the answer he received. It made him want to sigh but he refrained. 

“So, you are nervous.” He said, fairly sure that wasn’t all of it but definitely a part. 

Hanzo shrugged, not looking at him. 

“Do not worry, Winston is one of the smartest scientists on this planet, he wouldn't have said it’s ready if he wasn’t sure of it. It will work, brother.” 

They walked for a few more meters before Hanzo stopped and turned to him, scowling. 

“But it is not just on him, is it? It is not pure science. There is magic involved in this, brother. Magic. Our family might have been using our dragons for centuries but we don’t  _ know _ how they work. So no, Winston cannot be sure it will work. It is a gambit and my life is not the only one at stake.” 

Oh. It should not be as surprising to him that Hanzo is afraid for someone else, but it was. He’s used being the only one Hanzo ever openly protected and it took him completely by surprise to hear that same undertone of protective anger in his voice now.

“You know, McCree is more than willing to take the risk.”

Hanzo scoffed. “He does not know the enormity of it. Do you think I don’t know they all assume I have control over what will happen? You better than anyone should know how untrue that is. There is nothing I can do to help!”

“Well, there you have it then.”

Hanzo whirled towards him. “What?”

Genji smiled at his brother consolingly. “There is nothing you can do. Worrying about it changes nothing. Sometimes hope and blind faith are all we got, brother. No matter how much you wish you could control everything.” He couldn’t resist the small jab. 

Hanzo huffed, dislike clearly edged into every line of his young face. His eyebrows were so furrowed they nearly appeared as one. 

Genji clapped him on the shoulder with every intention for it to be as encouraging and lighthearted as possible. Hanzo was morose enough for both of them and Genji felt the need to compensate. Like when they were just teenagers. 

And he enjoyed the feelings it brought with it. What an unexpected twist. 

“Come on. They are waiting for us.” 

Hanzo gave in and started walking again, it hasn’t been far. But the laboratory was for safety reasons in a different building. They managed to get right to it when Hanzo grabbed Genji’s hand and made him stop again. 

“Hanzo, it won’t help for you to-”

“No. Shut up. It’s not that.” Hanzo barked at him, then raising his free hand to his forehead, massaging it with small circular movements. Genji was too surprised by the forceful words to be offended. “I wish to tell you something. Before we go in.” Hanzo said in a much calmer tone. Genji simply nodded. 

Hanzo looked at him for a few beats before reaching up and taking off Genji’s faceplate. Genji raised his eyebrows but did not comment on it. Hanzo seemed lost in whatever was happening in his head anyway. 

Genji watched him as he played with the metal part between his fingers, flipping it around and around again. 

[“I know you are hiding something from me, Genji.”] He started then and Genji’s blood froze. But Hanzo didn’t look up. Not yet. [“I know it’s important and that it’s bad. There wouldn’t be much point in hiding something nice.”]

[“Hanzo-”] Hanzo raised his palm, stopping Genji with that single gesture. 

[“I must have done or not done something big. I‘m not asking you to tell me now, I know you do not wish to.”] He added as Genji started to open his mouth again. [“And whatever it was or is I doubt I could change it in the ten or so minutes I have left. But I wanted to do something right. Even if it might not mean much in the grand scheme of things I wanted to make sure- I-”] Hanzo rubbed at his face, clearly aggravated by his inability to form the desired words. He looked up at Genji and his face was as open as Genji ever seen it. His breath stopped in his throat and he could feel his lips part in surprise. 

[“I know I am not the best brother and for whatever I did or did not do, I apologize. But mostly I wish to apologize if I ever made you feel like I do not care or love you, Genji. Because I do. You are the most important person in my life and if I failed to tell you this in the future then I’m glad I got this chance to do it now. That’s- That is all I wished to tell you.”] Hanzo awkwardly stepped from foot to foot, his cheeks covered in a red hue, the eye contact long forsaken for staring at the faceplate between his fingers. [“We should go in. It’s impolite to let them wait for so long.”]

Genji, for one, did not give a fuck about whether the whole of Watchpoint is waiting for them or not. He made his still shock slow body move and gathered the fidgeting, blushing mess of his older brother into a crushing embrace. 

Hanzo stood frozen for a while but then he tentatively returned it, huffing in clear embarrassment. 

Genji closed his eyes and sent out a prayer. Never he wished for anything so much as he now wished for the procedure to work as Winston hoped, for them to regain their proper bodies but retain the memories of these past weeks as well. He had not wanted to lose the brother he just got back. 

The door opened and Ana poked her head out. Her sharp eyes assessing the situation and her lips curling into an indulgent smile. 

“Good, you are finally here. Let’s go in and get to it then.”

 

It was all prepared and there wasn’t much for them to do than let two young men enter the chamber specifically designed by Winston for this. It was a hulking monster constructed of different metal parts, coils of thick wires, and what looked like a holographic interface. Genji had no idea what was what.

“I’ve removed the actual physical explosion, we can simulate the situation without the additional stress for your bodies,” Winston said to the two as they paused in front of the entry to the chamber. 

“Well, we sure appreciate that,” McCree answered bit uncertainly. His usual cocky grin on the wobbly side. 

“We won’t be able to get to you until after the process ends but rest assured Angela and her team will assist you immediately after if necessary.”

Genji could see Anglea nod. Behind her were standing Lucio, Ana, and his Master, all visibly ready to lend a hand. 

“When the red light lights up you’ll know the process had begun and-”

“Oh for the love of- Just let them go in already,” Soldier huffed and Winston nearly dropped his clipboard. Tracer put her hand on his shoulder with encouraging nod and he sighed. 

“Alright. If there isn’t anything you want to ask, you can go in.” 

The two looked at each other and with a single determined nod stepped in, Jesse first, Hanzo right behind him. 

He did not expect Hanzo to turn to look at him and so wasn’t surprised or hurt by the lack of any additional goodbye. They had their moment. Now Hanzo needed to focus on himself, his dragons and Jesse. 

The last thing Genji saw before the door to the chamber closed with a hiss of hydraulics was Jesse catching Hanzo’s hand in his. 

Now, they waited. 

 

\---

 

Jesse McCree had regrets. Many of them. Some fresh, some old and some he couldn’t quite recall but knew for sure existed.

The headache he was sporting now seemed like it would be fitting quite nicely with the latter category. 

“Mother of all Hell,” he whimpered, very manly, of course, before reaching up to touch his head. Maybe it was actually split in half. That could mean yesterday’s bad choices wouldn’t be his fault for once. Refreshing. 

He found his head to be about the size as always, hairy and decidedly not in two pieces. 

Guess this one was on him, too, then. 

“Jesse?” A familiar voice pulled him out of the downward spiral that was self-pity. “How are you feeling?” 

Oh fuck. Did he go so overboard he ended up in Angie’s care? Well, damn it all. He hates to worry her like this. 

“Angie.” Is all he can manage with his tongue sticking to the roof of his dry mouth. God, this is the worst. 

“Take it easy, Jesse. You don’t have to open your eyes yet, it’s bright here, let me turn down the lights a bit first.” Her hurried steps were loud as she headed away from him.

Yup, this is it. This is the proof that she is an actual angel. Not that he had doubted her before. 

“Ah, done. You can now if you wish.” He heard the steps come closer again, some rustling on his right side and then her kind voice again. “Open your mouth, please.”

He did as she asked and didn’t even flinch at the sensation of the ice chip on his tongue. He sucked at it. Heaven.

It only took a few seconds for it to melt but he felt worlds better. He let out a relieved sigh and she chuckled next to him. 

“Now, let me ask you again. How are you feeling, Jesse?” She didn’t sound annoyed with him, so that was a good sign, right? 

He decided to risk it and separated his lids by the tiniest bit. The lights were dimmed as she promised but they were still some on and it took everything in him not to shut his eyes again. 

“Felt better, not gonna lie,” he rasped at her. She looked sympathetic but focused, her eyes flickering over his face with something like a relief in them. Something in the back of his mind started to nibble at his theory about an abundance of brandy. 

“Understandable. Tell me, what can you remember?”

Remember? Uh… For a moment there was nothing. Literally. His mind was completely blank and it was the most bizarre feeling he had to date. But as he pushed against the pain bits and pieces started to pop up. 

The Orca’s bay door opening. A city by a bay. Old city. Europian.  _ Rialto _ , his mind supplied after a second or two. Okay, so a mission? 

He frowned, closing his eyes as he tried to pull more memories to the surface. Damn, his head was killing him! 

The memory of Hanzo’s wide panicked eyes made him start. Eyes flying open. “Hanzo?” he asked, voice wavering. 

Angela’s shoulder sagged but he couldn’t tell if it was relief, disappointment or something worse. Then she pointed on his left and he turned his lead-like head in that direction. 

The older Shimada was in the bed next to him. Motionless and still very clearly unconscious. 

“What happened?” 

“I will tell you but I need you to tell me what you remember first. Please, Jesse, it’s important.” Her imploring tone told him as such but he still felt torn. God, did Hanzo always look so pale? 

“I- uh, mission- in Rialto, I think. And Hanzo.” He scrunched his forehead, hands flying up on instinct to massage his temples. The headache was killing him. “Explosion? Sorry, Angie, I don’t know.” 

She patted him feather-light on the shoulder. “No, that’s enough, Jesse.” This time he could identify the disappointment with ease. 

“Wha’ happened, Ange?”

Her eyes ticked form him to Hanzo and back several times before she let out a weary sigh and sagged on the side of his bed. It was a move so unprofessional it made Jesse gape at her. 

And as she proceeded to explain the events of the past couple of months his jaw was steadily dropping until it felt like it’s going to unhinge. He would be sorely tempted to not believe her but the evidence in a form of several pictures and a video footage made him believe pretty damn quick. 

Fifty minutes later the only words coming to mind were a deeply sincere “well fuck.”

 

\---

 

Hanzo walked into his room right before the third hour of the morning struck. Well, walked was maybe a slightly generous a term. 

The only reason he managed to leave the infirmary even as he was half blind with a headache and exhausted down to his bones, was because it wasn’t too far and he leaned against the wall the whole way there. 

But his stubbornness went a long way and he was determined not to spend a single another hour in the infirmary. 

He woke up sometimes in the evening the day before and proceeded to have his whole worldview shook as the events of the past weeks were described to him by a group of beings including a gorilla scientist, omnic monk, celebrity DJ, doctor Ziegler and half amnestic cowboy. 

Hanzo was understandably overwhelmed, especially as they didn’t seem to be willing to just let him ponder it all in peace. Especially McCree, who kept asking him random questions in his quest to remember what had happened to them. 

Hanzo. Did. Not. Remember. 

He did not wish to remember. He would like to have some peace and quiet. He had a mother of all headaches and wished to fall back into a coma. 

As expected, all his desires were soundly ignored. So he took the matter into his own hands. And here he was. Falling face first into a bed that was clearly not made. And was covered with things that were most certainly not bedding. He growled in annoyance. 

Something crinkled under him as he rolled over and he sighed. He forgot his iron discipline was not always so iron. Especially without anyone around to enforce it. 

Hanzo pushed himself up and begun to gather all that clearly didn’t belong, only his aversion to mess stopping him from just kicking it off for now.

Most of it were articles of clothing. But there was an arrow, too. And a book. 

And what felt like a folded sheet of paper? 

He brought it closer to his eyes so he would be able to look at it and yes, it was folded paper. And written on it a single word: Hanzo.

Did he leave that for himself? That would certainly be smart. 

He turned on the lights and looked at it again. 

It still said ‘Hanzo’ but now he could tell it was not his handwriting. Unfolding it he saw the whole page was filled with uneven words. 

 

_ Okay, so this may be stupid but I figured there wasn’t much to lose, right? Right.  _

_ So, as I see it, we have pretty much four ways things could end up going today. Either it went all as planned and we are right as rain and remembering everything. In that case, I’ll try my best to get to this before you do, so things won’t get awkward. If I didn’t manage that you should stop reading right now. I mean it. Do me a solid this one time, okay? _

_ Or it went all go tits up and we are both dead, in that case, whoever finds it, probably Genji, I’m sorry. But we went into it knowing it could happen so don’t you go blaming yourselves, alright guys?  _

_ The third possibility is that it worked but only for you and I’m either still this or toast. Either way, stop blaming yourself! And yes, I know for sure you are, I know you better than you think, you ass. Just quit it, okay? It’s not your fault and I know that no matter how much the noodles like me, they will pick you over me, self-preservation and all that. I get it and I don’t blame them either. Seriously, y’all already went above and beyond and I have to say, I had a pretty good time with you. No regrets, okay? Just remember me and my roughish charm fondly or some shit like that. Just, please, don’t think it’s in any way your fault. Luck of the draw and all that.  _

_ Or hey, maybe we are both alive and the correct age but some shit happened and we don’t remember. I know Winston said it’s fifty-fifty but you know how it is, shit happens. So, if you are reading this all mature, with goatee and stuff but have no idea what happened, I wanna thank you.  _

_ Han, you’ve kept me sane. I woke up in a world where nothing I knew was true anymore and with no one to turn to because I don’t really know these people, no matter what they say. And I know I didn’t know you, too, but you were there and you were just as much of a lost mess as I was and you didn’t just… You didn’t walk away, you know? And that’s something not many people had done for me. I can really only recall one. You know who. Or maybe you don’t, now, but that’s really not the point here.  _

_ What I’m trying to say, badly, I admit, is that you made a hell into a holiday and I am so grateful for that. I think I’m gonna miss it, even if I don’t remember. It probably sounds pathetic but I guess I can admit it here if anywhere, even just lying next to you as you read and with the noodles using me as their personal heat stone I think that’s the most content I’ve ever been. God, now I’m thinking I should burn this and write something less sappy. But no time for that, Angela will be picking me up soon and I have to get this to your room before that. Eh, whatever. What are the chances you are gonna read this anyway?  _

_ But, hey, just to be on a safe side.  _

_ Thank you, Hanzo. Thank you so much! Keep yourself safe, darling, okay? _

_ -Jesse _

 


	12. Chapter 12

Genji was unsurprised to hear his brother left the infirmary without waiting to be officially cleared by Angela.

He also wasn’t surprised to find him on the top of the comm tower, clutching his trusty gourd of sake.

[“I am fine. You can leave.”] Hanzo growled, not taking his eyes from the horizon. Genji just from a simple curiosity turned to look at it but there was nothing that should be holding Hanzo’s gaze. He’s been just avoiding looking at him then, as expected.

[“I’m glad to hear you are feeling fine, brother. But I’m not in a hurry to be anywhere else.”]

Hanzo huffed. A harsh annoyed sound. But Genji was not deterred, he would speak to Hanzo no matter how much the other man did not wish to. It was his turn, now.

[“McCree is also doing well, in case you wondered.”] He offered, only a little teasingly.

Hanzo ignored him but Genji could see his stiff shoulders sag by the smallest amount. [“Though, he is a bit annoyed he can’t remember anything that happened to you. Last I saw, Pharah was mocking him for several things he had done in the past weeks.”]

Hanzo growled something under his breath Genji couldn’t catch before asking. [“Is that why are you here? Do you wish to laugh at me for whatever had happened that I’m unable to recall?”]

Genji couldn’t lie, he would love to. There was more than enough ammunition to last him for months, if not years. But it wasn’t why he decided to track Hanzo down.

[“No,”] he admitted as he swung his body on the ledge where his brother was sitting and took a place by his side. Hanzo went rigid again. [“I’m here to tell you we are not doing this.”]

That made Hanzo turned to him, one eyebrow arched in plain confusion.

[“This?”] He asked and his eyes swept over their laps and his gourd. Genji did not roll his eyes just because he was well aware Hanzo was purposefully evasive. Instead, he reached up and undid the clasps of his helmet, taking it off and putting it next to him on the ledge. He could feel Hanzo stare at him and for a moment he entertained an image of Hanzo with his mouth hanging open, even if that was not a real possibility. Still. He could indulge in the privacy of his mind.

[“This, Hanzo,”] he turned back a gestured between them. [“We are not doing _this_ , again. I had enough.”] It surprised him a bit to see Hanzo suppress a flinch but he refused to be distracted by it and continued. [“Brother, I love you. I love you and I miss you terribly. If the past weeks taught me anything, it was that I need my brother to actually be my brother. I know you do not wish to believe I’ve forgiven you and I understand. I know forgiving yourself is something that will take time if it’s possible for you at all. I understand that, _now_. But please. Please do not punish me, or you, by taking yourself away from me, again. Please, Hanzo.”]

Genji risked taking Hanzo’s free hand into both of his, squeezing it and reveling in how much bigger it was now in comparison to a few days ago.

When he looked up Hanzo’s eyes were wide, shiny and wholly disbelieving.

He was only a little surprised when he felt the telltale tingling next to his spine as his dragon slowly manifested over his shoulder, making Hanzo’s eyes reflect the green light almost in the same way Genji’s pupils glowed naturally with it.

She slithered down his arm and lightly and carefully pressed her snout to Hanzo’s knuckles.

Almost like a kiss. A benediction.

When Genji looked up again, there were three silent tears disappearing into Hanzo’s goatee and a whole lot of hope in the familiar dark eyes. Genji quirked a smile and tilted his head. [“But rest assured I will most certainly mock you for all the terrible flirting you’ve done with young Jesse. Later though,”] he added before Hanzo could do more than blink in a dawning horror and then he pulled his weakly protesting older brother into another crushing hug. Genji was not above using any and all advantages to get what he wanted. And now he finally understood what had it been he wished for this whole time.

“I really missed you, anija.”

It was nearly a whole minute before Hanzo sagged into him and a few soft words were murmured into his neck.

“I missed you too, _otouto_.”

 

\---

 

Jesse McCree was used to finding many things in his boots when he still lived in the desert. It was one of the first rules he had been taught back when he was just a kid that you do not put your boots on just willy nilly. You have to check first if something isn’t using it as a temporary home. And then double and triple check it because there are not many things as nasty as being bitten or stung between your toes.

One of the perks of living on the Watchpoint was that this was no longer a problem.

Or so Jesse thought.

Therefore he felt that his scream when he tried to put his boots on in the morning and finding something alive and squirming in them, was warranted and perfectly excusable.

What was not excusable were two gloving heads angrily hissing at him from inside his boot as he peered inside.

“Agent McCree?” Athena’s voice inquired in almost careful manner. “Is everything alright?”

“No! Eh, I mean yeah, ‘s fine. But no. Uh, I think I have two dragons in my boot.”

Whatever reaction he expected from the AI it wasn’t a calm: “I believe it’s one of their favorite sleeping spots.”

He blinked. And then blinked some more. And then there were dragons slithering on his lap and there was no more space for thoughts next to his panic. “Athena, call Hanzo!”

Her business-like confirmation “as you wish, agent McCree” felt like a reprimand but he couldn’t say he cared too much.

It took surprisingly short time for the sound of running steps reach to him through the wall. He instructed Athena to open the door with all the fake calm he could muster, trying not to breathe too much so his body wouldn’t move.

Hanzo nearly fell into the room, looking frazzled and sleep mussed, and then stopped dead, staring at Jesse. Or most precisely on his lap. And if there ever was a moment Jesse hadn’t go for the suggestive comment and a wink it was this one. Instead, he turned his panicked gaze to Hanzo and mouthed ‘help me’ with all the desperation he could muster while not moving an inch. The dragons did not seem to care about his mental state, proceeding to yawn, opening their maws widely, and then nuzzle more forcefully into Jesse’s midsection.

A high pitched sound he didn’t know he could make left his lips and it was enough to pull Hanzo from whatever trans he was in.

Hanzo barked something in a harsh Japanese, that made the dragons turn his gazes at him in clear confusion. They chirped at Hanzo, first inquisitively and then with a dose of annoyance when his response hadn’t been what they wished or expected, Jesse couldn’t tell. The debate went like that for a while, making Jesse little less worried, because the little he got from it all, they weren’t here to eat him. He counted that as a big plus. Hanzo, on the other hand, was getting more and more vexed with the glowing duo.  

In the end, he thrust his tattooed arm forward and barked something that sounded like a clear order. The dragons hissed at him but then with a last longing look at Jesse, they floated to the arm and basically soaked into it. Hanzo’s face twisted in a discomfort for a second and Jesse guessed they made their displeasure know to Hanzo physically.

With a suddenly free lap, Jesse let out a whoosh of relieved breath.

“Thank ya kindly, pardner. That was not what I expected from ma mornin’.”

When he looked up at Hanzo, the man stood stiffly where he was, massaging the arm with his other hand.

“I apologize, McCree. They should not be doing this.”

McCree shrugged now when his bits were in safe distance from maws full of sharp teeth his curiosity reared its head. “Didn’t know they could do that. They run on ya often?”

Hanzo frowned and shook his head. “This is the first time in a very long time.”

His face took on a melancholy look and McCree decided not to ask. Instead, he took in Hanzo’s look in more detail.

The man was clearly asleep when Athena relayed Jesse’s urgent plea and Jesse couldn’t say he minded seeing this side of Hanzo. His clothes were probably what he had been wearing the day before, his kyudo barely holding together, hakama still half rolled and showing off his dainty ankles. His hair was all over the place and there was a pillow crease on his left cheek. It was kinda adorable. As much as a man like Hanzo could be called adorable, anyway. But there were also dark circles under his eyes and he was paler then he should be.

“Sorry, for waking ya.” He scratched his own bead head, which, yeah, he forgot about. “I know you’ve been worse off than I. ‘am sorry. Ya at least feeling a bit better?”

Hanzo, probably also just realizing how he must look, gazed aside, making Jesse bit his lip to stop any chance of a smile.

“I am fine, McCree, you do not have to concern yourself with me.”

Jesse couldn’t help the small snort. “Yeah, I don’t think ya can stop me.”

Hanzo huffed but there was little fire in it. He still wasn’t looking at Jesse, instead, his eyes were taking in the room. “You… are feeling better?” He asked belatedly and Jesse grinned.

“A little headache. Nothing I can’t handle. God knows I had worse after some of our bets.”

Hanzo’s lips turned out into a smirk for the briefest of seconds but it disappeared as he let out a surprised breath. Making Jesse follow the line of his gaze to the desk.

There, completely innocuous, were two framed pictures Jesse knew for damn sure he hadn’t put there. One of them he recognized. It was a recent photo and he could recall the moment with a startling clarity. There had been a training exercise that morning, one of the rare fun ones Winston usually came up with. It doubled as a trust exercise, too. They had been divided into pairs for a shooting competition where one had to shoot with their eyes covered being only directed by their teammate and then switch. They had been paired together and won. By a good margin. It wasn’t that surprising since they were both expert marksmen, but shooting wasn’t really the point of the game.

After Genji insisted he wanted to commemorate his brother's success and nagged them into it while making everything in his power to make Hanzo crack a smile.

It was a good day and Jesse often went back to it when he wasn’t feeling up to par.

The other picture, though, that one Jesse hadn’t seen before. It didn’t even occur to him yet to go through his room to maybe gain some clues about the time he was missing. He felt stupid for it, now.

It was a picture of the two of them, again. But not. Jesse knew for sure he never met Hanzo at that age. Yet here they were, on a couch that Jesse recognized as one of those in the common room.

He was wearing a standard Overwatch t-shirt and a pair of the same grey, white, orange sweats, mostly lying on the sofa with his head on Hanzo’s shoulder, clearly deep asleep. On his belly, though, was lying a pair of glowy dragons, intertwined with each other and curled into a pile, with only their heads sticking out of it, resting on Jesse’s chest. Hanzo next to him was also sleeping, also slumped a bit to the side, with an open book lying on his chest where it probably dropped when he nodded off. And most importantly, his hand was still holding Jesse's, their fingers intertwined.

It was moment shining with soft contentment Jesse couldn’t remember feeling, well, ever. It made him ache.

Silence ruled over the room.

“I-” he started but it came out scratchy and he cleared his throat before trying again. “I guess, the dragons remember?”

Hanzo took a step forward, reaching for the photo before stopping himself and balling his hand into a fist, holding it stiffly next to his side.

“I have been… reliably informed they have grown considerably fond of you.” To Jesse’s astonishment, Hanzo’s voice was about as raw as his was.

“Yeah? Genji told you that?” It sure sounded like something the green ninja would say.

Hanzo turned to look at him and Jesse stared. He had never seen this much open emotion on the older Shimada’s face. He was clearly debating something with himself, his eyes flicking from Jesse to the desk and back before putting his hand on his tattooed forearm and squeezing. Whatever had happened in those several seconds was clearly enough, because he turned to face Jesse fully and shook his head.

“Not Genji. You.”

Jesse wasn’t sure if he heard right.

“Are you saying you remember?” He asked in a voice rougher than was appropriate.

But Hanzo shook his head again, unbound hair flying with it, and there was some clearly visible regret in his face.

“You left me a letter. The younger you,” he clarified, though it was hardly needed.

“What did it say?” He asked and he felt his heart in his throat because he wasn’t completely sure he wanted to know. The status quo they had between them for so long was comfortable and changing it was terrifying. Well, no, losing Hanzo was terrifying.

Hanzo took a step towards him and then rocking on his foot a little as if he wanted to take it back.

“A lot,” he said then, a tiny smirk flicking over his lips, before disappearing again. His eyes were boring into Jesse’s. “Not enough.”

Jesse swallowed. “I don’t remember.” He hoped it sounded as he meant it, as regret, not an excuse.

“I do not remember, either.” Hanzo closed his eyes. “But I wish I did.”

And that was enough. Enough for Jesse to get up. Enough for him to close the distance between them. Enough to reach up and cup the side of Hanzo's face in his palm. Thinking his heart will most certainly burst when the man leaned into the touch.

“Guess, we could make some new memories,” Jesse heard himself murmur into the space between them. Feeling Hanzo’s blooming smile against his skin.

“I suppose we could.”

Jesse grinned at him. “Good thing yer dragons already like me, then.”

 


End file.
